


Dean Likes Pie

by S_G_M



Category: Pushing Daisies, Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, Cat, Cat Cafe, Caucasian, Crossover, End of the World, F/M, Food, Goddess, Impala, Love, Mohini, Necromancy, One Shot, Pie, Possession, Supernatural - Freeform, corpse, couer d' couers, gravy, hotdog - Freeform, necromancer - Freeform, steve - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_G_M/pseuds/S_G_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ned finds himself in a spot of trouble that only the Winchesters just might be able to help him out of.</p><p>But, will they succeed, or will this be the end of the world as we know it?</p><p>A purple animated corpse on the run, a sultry goddess, and Steve, make this an unforgettable tale of adventure and drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Likes Pie

 

At this moment, the pie-maker was twenty-nine years, eleven months, three weeks, four days, seven hours, twenty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds old, and feeling very alone.

 

He rolled out the pie crust for the cranberry-orange pie, all the while thinking that he had unfortunately been correct in his assumption in his youth that happiness never lasted, while Digby was laying at the pie-maker's feet, thinking that he really did like gravy.

 

At that very moment, Chuck Charles was becoming reacquainted with her aunts, Lily and Vivian, explaining that while she did indeed die, she had been brought back to life, which, after a few mugs of aunt Lily's tea, was becoming more believable.

 

Emerson Cod on the other hand, was getting reacquainted with his daughter, Sophie.

 

The bell above the door leading into the Pie Hole rang, stirring Digby from his thoughts.

 

Ned wiped his hands on his apron and came out into the dining area to find Emerson and Sophie sitting in their booth.

 

Ned sat down with them with a greeting.  "Hey, do you think that after meeting someone or someones that you haven't met for a long time, makes it so that you sort of forget about the new someones that you met later on, or that you just get really excited about seeing those someones and then go back to a fairly normal now?"  He asked.

 

Emerson raised an eyebrow.  "Is this about Dead-girl?"  He asked, leaning on the table.  Sophie frowned.  "Who's Dead-girl?"  She asked, leaning in as well.

 

Ned nodded.  "It's about Chuck, yes."  He looked at Sophie, who looked right back at him.  "Maybe."

 

Emerson rolled his eyes.  "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to catch up with my kid."  He drawled.  "We'd like some pie, please."

 

"Right, but, seriously, what do you think?"  Ned asked, desperate for some confirmation either way.

 

"I think I'd like the three berry pie."  Emerson said firmly, looking at his daughter.  "Sophie, what do you want?"  Sophie tilted her head back while she thought.

 

"Pumpkin, with ice cream."  She said finally.  Emerson raised an eyebrow at Ned, who sighed and got up, leaving to get the pie.

 

When he returned, he sat down again, much to Emerson's dismay, and asked another question.  "Or what if it's the opposite instead, that you just get really excited about seeing those people, then you go back to the way things were, or that you decide that there is too much distance between those someones and you decide to move back to where you were, instead of staying in what is your home now, because you realize that things aren't as you really thought they were?"

 

Ned leaned his elbow on the table, his chin in his palm, the expression on his face contemplative.

 

Emerson looked at him for a moment before smiling a crocodile smile.  "Hey, I have something to help take your mind off all these troubling thoughts; a case came in a little while ago, and I think it would be good for you to get out of here for a while, and get a change of scenery, while helping our partnership."  He said smoothly.  "And that will leave me some time with my daughter."  He tipped his head not-so subtly at the child.

 

Ned straightened up and cleared his  throat.  "Oh."  He said sadly, getting up and going to the kitchen.

 

When he'd returned, he had a cup-pie for each of them, setting them down without a word, a sad look on his face.

 

He left straight after.

 

 

 

 

 

The facts were these; Greg Martello, a police-man with questionable practices, was found dead, hanging by his ankles from a lamp-post, the current cause of death was supposed to be the result of a berry aneurysm.

 

The thing that made the case all the more puzzling was the fact that his ankles had been tied directly to the top-most point of the lamp-post.

 

It would have been impossible to do so without a cherry-picker and without being seen.

 

The morgue attendant gave Ned the basic findings, and left him alone, as per Emerson's long standing agreement.

 

Peeling back the sheet, Ned was greeted with a swollen, purple face.

 

Ned grimaced, set his timer, and gently touched the man's arm.

 

An instant later, the man sat up with a jerk and screamed loudly.

 

Ned tried to quiet him, but the man continued to scream even more shrilly, before looking at Ned's watch.  "Why are you looking at your watch?"  The dead man asked edgily.

 

Ned quickly explained the one minute rule, and was just about to ask the man how he died, when the man knocked him off his feet with a quick blow to the chest.

 

"Not today!"  The man yelled triumphantly, leaping from the table while running drunkenly towards the door.  "I died once already, so fuck you!"

 

Ned blinked in surprised offence before dashing after him.

 

But little did the pie-maker know that the minute was nearly up, and the morgue attendant was just returning from his coffee break.

 

 

Just as Sophie was finishing her examination of the kitchen, Ned burst in, panting heavily.

 

Digby raised his head and stared longingly at the hands that would never pet him, before resting his weary chin back on his paws, sighing with a sad breath.

 

Emerson sighed as well, not with longing, but because he knew that something went wrong, and said as much.  "What is it this time?"  He asked in bored irritation.

 

Ned grabbed Emerson's sleeve and dragged him into a far corner of the dining area, explaining in a hushed, hurried voice.

 

"And the guy you pay off is now dead."  He said, realizing that from the look on Emerson's face, Ned would also soon be dead.

 

"So, you just let the corpse walk right out of there, huh?"  Emerson said, nodding.

 

Ned crossed his arms.  "Well, I didn't have much of a choice."  He protested.  "I did chase after him for seven blocks before losing him."

 

Emerson rolled his eyes.  "I'm really starting to think that you're more trouble than all this is worth."  He said.

 

"So now, we don't have a man in the morgue, we don't have a case, and there's a dead man running around, probably freaking people out."

 

Ned shrugged helplessly, wanting to say something, but had nothing so he said nothing.

 

 

 

Sam reread the ripped piece of newspaper, mentioning the strange deaths in Coeur d’Cours County.

 

"Dean, are you even sure that this is a real place?"  He asked as Dean got in the driver's seat.  "It sounds like something from TV.”

 

Dean ignored him, cranking over the engine and pulling onto the highway.

 

Sam sighed and tossed the paper on the dashboard.  "What is it this time?"  He asked.  Honestly, Dean could be such a drama queen.

 

Dean scowled at him and Sam let his head fall back.  "Come on!"  He exclaimed.  "It was only a jacket.  We'll get you a new one."

 

"Your jacket is just a jacket."  Dean snapped, gesturing with his hand.  "I've had that jacket for ten years.  That jacket belonged to Angus Young.  It was one of a kind, Sam!"  Dean sighed heavily, looking sullen.

 

Sam crossed his arms and shook his head.  "This is the first time I've ever heard of it belonging to Angus Young."  He commented.

 

Dean glared at him.  "Shut up, Sammy, I don't tell you everything."  He stated sulkily, while Sam had already dismissed what he believed to be a lie.

 

The leather jacket had been sliced from one shoulder blade to a hip, cutting through the jacket, as well as Dean's shirt and leaving a bloody gash on his back.  Of course, Dean had naturally been the most upset at the loss of the jacket.

 

Sam looked at the directions he'd scribbled on the motel pad.  "You need to take the next left up there."  He said, stretching his one leg.

 

Dean nodded slowly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As they travelled into Coeur d’Cours a couple hours later, Sam squinted out the window at their surroundings.  "Uh, is it just me, or is it a lot brighter all of a sudden?"  He asked, raising his hand to his eyes.

 

Dean put a pair of sunglasses on.  "It's not you."  He said, licking his bottom lip and stretching his arms a bit.

 

Sam opened the glove department and brought out his own sunglasses.  "Ok, then."  He said with a shrug.

 

 

Disappointed and disgruntled, Emerson Cod took Sophie home and started searching for Greg Martello, leaving Ned back to his pie making.

 

Olive sat at a table, filing her nails, while Chuck leaned on the table, listening to Ned's recount of what happened at the morgue.

 

"That's awful."  She told him when he was finished.  "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

 

Olive paused in the task of grooming her nails.  "Wait a minute."  She said, sitting up a bit straighter. 

 

"Greg Martello?"  Chuck nodded, brow knitted.

 

A huge smile spread across Olive's face.  "No way!  I used to date him in high school."  Her smile faded as she realized that her high school sweetheart was dead.

 

"Oh, you're right, that is awful.  I mean, it was awful before, but..."  She trailed off, folding her hands in her lap.

 

Chuck touched her shoulder.  "Oh, Olive."  She cooed.  "I'm so sorry."

 

Olive waved her away.  "It's alright; he was a jerk in the end."  She paused.  "No, I don't mean it's alright that he died, but... Oh, you know what I mean."  Ned raised an eyebrow at all this.

 

Chuck turned her attention to him.  "But what are you going to do about all this?"  She asked.

 

"We can't just leave him running around all purple."  Refraining from mentioning dead as well, because it just seemed too hypocritical.

 

Ned did feel a responsibility to find the dead man, but had been told by Emerson to stay put and out of the way.

 

"Jumbo popcorn!"  Olive exclaimed quirkily, leaning on the table looking out the window at something.

 

Ned had always felt a special irritation at the odd exclamations that Olive had felt the need to express, but did not say anything to avoid hurting Olive's feelings.

 

"What is it?"  Chuck asked, leaning over Olive.

 

"Uh..."  Olive uttered, watching a tall man in a cream trench-coat walking towards the entrance.

 

Chuck whipped around as the door opened, revealing a slightly haggard looking man, who walked straight past them and sat at a booth, ignoring them completely.

 

Olive scrambled over Chuck.

 

"Hey!"  Chuck exclaimed in surprise and offence.

 

Olive adjusted her skirt and smoothed her hair.  "Well, someone needs to serve that man."  She said with a sly grin before sashaying over.

 

Chuck looked at Ned.  "I thought she didn't work here anymore."  She said, half smiling.

 

Ned smiled back and shrugged, watching the scene unfold.

 

Chuck's smile widened slightly, and she placed a napkin across the back of her hand.

 

Ned placed his own hand over the napkin, and gave that papery mound a small rub, as Olive inquire as to what the new customer wanted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam crumpled up the burger wrapper as he looked at the new paper clipping one last time.  "You know, this hanging from the ankles sounds really familiar."  He said.  There was silence.  He looked at his brother.  "Dean?"

 

The Impala began to slow and pull over.

 

"Dean?"  Sam repeated, leaning forward in his seat.

 

Dean beamed at his brother and pointed out the window.

 

Sam looked out and nodded.  "Yeah?  So it's a novelty building."  He said, unimpressed.  "We've passed a hundred of those."

 

"Fuck you, Sammy."  Dean said.  "It's pie.  We're stopping."

 

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, before picking up his burger wrapper and crinkling it.

 

"Did you happen to forget that we just had lunch?"  He asked.

 

Dean smiled at him.  "There's always room for pie, Sammy.  Always."  He said with a tilt of his head, turning off the engine and getting out of the car.

 

Sam made a face, and got out as well.

 

He looked up at the tall building.

 

"You know, the pie's probably going to suck."  He told Dean.

 

Dean turned around crossed his arms.  "And why is that?"  He demanded, an eyebrow raised as he looked at the establishment.

 

Sam sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

 

"It's a corner lot with a cheap looking awning, and it's under what looks to be an apartment building."  He pointed out.

 

"Anything they have will probably be the standard four flavours and come out of a can."

 

Dean rolled his eyes, shook his head, and kept walking, leaving Sam to follow him.

 

 

 

As the bell above the door rang, Chuck turned around and saw two more men walk in.

 

"Ooh."  She said, turning around again.  "It's a busy day, today."  She got up and walked over to the brothers.  "Hi, welcome to the Pie-Hole."

 

 

She said with a big smile.  "Today we have a sale on cup-pies and peach-kiwi pie."

 

Sam frowned.  "Cup-pie?"  He asked, as Dean tapped his arm and nodded to Castiel, before walking to the booth.

 

Chuck beamed and nodded.  "Yep, it's like a pie, but it's made with some honey and it's cup size."  She played with her skirt.  "It's a cup-pie."

 

Sam's eyebrows went together.  "You mean a tart."  He said slowly.

 

Chuck shook her head.  "Anyone can say ‘tart’."  She replied.  "This way is just... more fun."

 

Sam nodded, excused himself and went over to the table where Dean and Castiel were sitting, along with a tiny little blonde with a big smile.

 

Olive turned slightly and beamed up him, her eyes sparkling.  "Wow... Aren't you tall?"  She said in awe.  "I could climb you like a tree."  She gave him a half grin.

 

Sam leaned back, and looked at Dean, who was just barely containing his laughter.

 

Castiel frowned.  "But, why would you want to do such a thing?"  He asked in bewilderment.

 

Olive turned towards Castiel, and gave him kind of a weird look, before turning back to Sam, looking at him with adoration.

 

"Now, what can I get you?"  She asked him.  Sam took a slight step backwards.  "Uh, I don't really want anything."  He told her.

 

Olive took a step towards him, making Sam take another step back, but she continued to attempt to close the difference.

 

"Really?"  She asked, waving her pen and pad around.  "We have every kind here.  Peach pie, apple pie, pumpkin pie, ice cream pie, cup-pies..."

 

Sam made a face at the last one.

 

Olive looked out of the tops of her eyes at him.  "It's _all_ on the menu."  She finished meaningfully in her sweet, girlish voice, a soft grin on her face.

 

Sam stopped when he was pressed against the counter, while Dean reclined in the booth, watching this all unfold with glee.

 

"Um, really, I-"

 

A hand landed on Olive's shoulder.  "Yes, Olive, I think he has the point."  Ned told her guiding Olive by her shoulders to the kitchen.  "You go to the kitchen and get their orders."

 

He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' to Sam.

 

"But… But, they haven't ordered yet!"  Olive said huffily, pushing back against his hands, resisting him, still attempting to flirt.

 

"That's alright," Ned told her.  "I'll take the order and you can bring it out."    He shoved her a bit more forcefully.

 

"Alright!"  Olive snapped, stomping.  "I get the point!"  With that, she went through the swinging doors in a huff.

 

"Poor Olive."  Chuck said from her spot at the counter.  She looked at Sam.  "Poor you, too, of course."

 

She sighed.  "It's just, she just broke up with her boyfriend and found out less than an hour ago that her high school sweetheart died horribly."

 

Sam nodded and leaned on the counter.  "Oh?"  He asked, and Chuck nodded.

 

"That's not the death that was in the newspaper?"  Sam asked, and Chuck nodded again.

 

"Yeah, it's awful, huh?"  She shook her head sadly.  "What a way to go."

 

Sam nodded.  "The paper didn’t really say what killed him."  He pried gently.

 

Dean leaned just a little bit closer at this, listening intently, as the pie-maker went to get their order.

 

Just as Chuck was about to say what killed the man, Olive swung the kitchen door open, almost hit Ned with it, and carried out a cup-pie with towering whipped cream and the biggest strawberry that Sam had ever seen.

 

"Here you go."  Olive said, setting it in front of him.  "A cup-pie.  Just to say sorry for that rude display."

 

Castiel looked at Dean.  "Cup...pie?"  He asked in mild confusion, tilting his head to the side.

 

"Yeah, you know what cup-pie is, don't you, Cas?"  Dean asked convincingly, pulling the plate closer.

 

Castiel gave a little shake of his head, still looking confused.

 

Sam gave Olive a worried look, slid past her and sat across from his elder brother and Castiel.

 

"Wow, that's a hell of a cup-pie you've got there, Sammy."  Dean told him with a bit of a grin.

 

Sam gave him an expert bitch-face for his efforts.

 

Castiel gazed down at the confection.

 

"That is a tart, Dean."  Castiel told him, wondering why Dean would be so silly.

 

Dean shook his head.  "Nah, man. That's a cup-pie."  He corrected.  "Didn't you hear the waitress say so?"

 

Sam sighed and pushed the item towards Dean.

 

"Here's your damn pie, now we can leave."  He said, then looked at Castiel.

 

"It's a marketing gimmick."  He explained.  "It's actually a tart."

 

Castiel's expression lightened, as he turned to face Dean.

 

"You see, Dean?  It is a tart."  He said with a very subtle smile.

 

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, whatever, Cas."  He said, picking up a fork, and immediately digging in.

 

Dean's eyes closed in delight, ignoring everything around him and focusing solely on the fact that _finally_ he had his pie.

 

Sam rolled his eyes.  Dean was becoming more of a drama queen every day.

 

He turned his attention to Castiel, who was watching Dean intently.  "Why are you here?"  Sam asked him, leaning on the table.

 

Ned came by and dropped off a whole peach pie, and a large slice of apple pie, before walking away quietly, solemnly contemplating whether Chuck was truly happy, knowing she would never tell him if she wasn't, merely to spare his feelings.

 

Castiel tipped the pie up, showing the lattice top to Sam.  "Pie."  He answered simply.  Sam frowned as Castiel took a huge fork out of his pocket.

 

"And, because he's a necromancer, an exceptionally rare being indeed."  Castiel added with a slight shrug, gesturing towards Ned, while poking the fork into the soft crust and scooping out a bite, before awkwardly attempting to eat.

 

Dean paused with his fork half-way to his mouth, staring at Castiel.  "What's with the fork?"  He asked curiously.

 

Castiel set the fork back in the pie, his bite left uneaten.  "Do you recall that time when I tried to make things up to you by purchasing you goods from a shop last year?"  He asked, half-hoping that his friend didn't remember, because the whole affair had been rather embarrassing for him.

 

Dean nodded.  "Yeah, so, what about it?"  He asked, prompting Castiel to continue.

 

"Well, I found this when I was there, and I really liked it..."  Castiel began, looking at the shiny fork.

 

"And so, I obtained it."  He finished, picking it back up, and managing to eat a good portion of what was on the utensil, which was at least an eighth of the entire pie.

 

His cheeks bulging childishly, he looked at Dean with a 'So there you go' look on his face.

 

Dean shrugged, and brought his own bite of pie the rest of the way to his mouth.

 

Sam rubbed his eyebrow.  "Am I the only one concerned that he said 'necromancer'?"  He asked.  "You know, the whole, 'bringing people back from the dead', kind of thing?"  He gave his hand a wave, sarcastically nonchalant.

 

Dean swallowed.  "Can't you just let me have my pie in peace?"  He asked, squinting at his brother.  "We'll worry about it after, ok?"

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, the pies were gone.

 

Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat.  Looking around, he noticed Chuck frowning at him.

 

Blinking, he looked at the other two.  "You done?"  He asked Dean in a clipped voice.

 

Dean sniffed, feeling a good deal of satisfaction.  "I suppose."  He said, pursing his lips.

 

Sam leaned forward, and spoke in a whisper, not wanting to draw more attention from the girl in the sunflower dress.

 

"Now, what about the guy?"  He said, giving his head a small jerk towards where Olive and Ned were sitting.

 

"Necromancers come from a long line, stemming directly from Greece."  Castiel informed them.  "What started it was that they began by trying to prophesize and divine from corpses.  A faction of these people separated from the others and sold their souls to be able to bring back the dead, and for the ability to fully prophesize the future, letting the ability to raise the dead and send them back, go down the blood-lines."

 

Sam scratched the side of his nose.  "And, what?  You think that he's using that old black magic?"  He asked.

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

“No, this is different.”  He answered solemnly.  “The talents of the necromancer have flowed through his bloodline for quite a number of generations.”

 

It was at this point that Olive returned, a sugary smile on her tiny face.

 

“Can I get anything else for you?”  She asked, leaning down just enough so that Sam would get a better view down her top.

 

She winked at him slyly, before gathering the dishes.

 

He shook his head in annoyance.

 

“No, that’s fine, thank you.”  Sam replied dryly.

 

Dean grinned at her teasingly.

 

“I’ll have another cup-pie.”  He said lowly.

 

Olive refrained from rolling her eyes, but only just.

 

“What type?”  She asked in barely veiled annoyance.

 

Dean blinked, slightly amused and a touch offended.

 

Almost nobody shut him down like that.

 

“Uh, pumpkin.”  He answered.

 

Olive pressed her lips into a thin line.

 

“We don’t have any pumpkin items on the menu today, sir.”  She said a little shortly.

 

Now it was Sam’s time to grin.

 

“It was on the menu twenty minutes ago when you were trying your best to get into my little brother’s pants.”  Dean pointed out, really wanting that pie.

 

Olive narrowed her eyes.

 

“Not for you.”  She whispered into his ear, blowing on his neck.

 

Dean frowned.

 

“All right.”  He said, getting up and walking over to the counter where Ned stood.

 

He pointed at a full pumpkin pie.

 

“I’ll take that one.”  He said.

 

Ned smiled politely, and retrieved the item.

 

“Would you like it sliced?”  Ned asked.

 

“And, wrapped.”  Dean told him.

 

Dean looked back at Olive, who was now sitting in his spot, leaning onto the table and staring at Sam almost lovingly.

 

He nodded, and Ned expertly sliced the pie before passing it to him.

 

Dean walked back, shooed Olive out of his spot, and sat the pie on the table.

 

Olive looked a little thwarted, before she went to join Ned at the counter.

 

Just before Castiel was about to continue with his explanation, Chuck walked over.

 

“I’m sorry, but how did you know that the murder was the one that was mentioned in the paper?”  She asked Sam curiously.  “There are a lot of murders here, and they’re not all advertised in the paper like that.  So how did you know?”

 

Chuck crossed her arms and tipped her head to the side.

 

Dean began to answer that question before Sam had a chance to open his mouth.

 

He whipped out his wallet, showing her an official looking FBI badge.

 

“We’re currently investigating a string of similar murders, and it seemed like a good idea to find out what the locals know.”  Dean told her matter-of-factly, flicking the wallet shut and beginning to put it away.

 

Sam nodded in agreeance, just before Chuck snatched the wallet out of Dean’s hand.

 

“Hey, I could charge you with a misdemeanour for that little move.”  He told her, grabbing for it.

 

But, Chuck moved deftly out of reach.

 

“I don’t think that would really work, since this is a fake ID.”  She pointed out, more than a little intrigued.

 

Dean frowned.

 

“See, there’s no hologram here.”  She pointed at it before handing back the wallet.

 

“Not on the new issues, no.”  Dean lied firmly, tucking the wallet away in his back pocket.

 

Chuck shrugged.

 

“I just want to know why you’d lie about this.  Are you amateur sleuths or something?”  She asked, her curiosity and excitement growing.  “OH!  Are you guys just intrigued by gory and gruesome murders?”

 

The brothers exchanged glances.

 

“No, it’s not like that.  At all.”  Sam told her quickly.

 

Dean gave him a ‘shut up’ look.

 

“If the badge isn’t good enough explanation for you, that’s just too damn bad, lady.”  He told her, looking back to Castiel, who was waiting ever so patiently.

 

As Chuck sat down next to Sam, gently nudging him over, Ned began to wonder what was so interesting about these customers.

 

First Olive couldn’t stay away, and now Chuck.

 

Ned set aside the pie that he’d been putting a lattice top on, and headed over to the table just in time to hear Chuck talking about something regarding criminals.

 

Ned’s eyebrows knitted together.

 

Were there criminals in his shop?

 

Perhaps he ought to call Emerson…

 

After a couple of moments, Dean just invited him to sit down.

 

These weirdoes obviously weren’t going anywhere.

 

Ned sat down next to Chuck very carefully, squishing Sam right up against the window.

 

Castiel watched the pie-maker with a slight look of fascination.

 

He hadn’t had the chance to meet very many necromancers in his time, only meeting three and only very briefly.

 

And Ned was very different from those.

 

Chuck looked from Ned to Castiel, wondering what was with the staring.

 

Sam kicked the angel under the table, and that elicited a small frown from Castiel, who looked away from Ned.

 

“Why did you kick me, Sam?”  He asked in a slightly hurt tone, wondering what he’d done wrong.

 

Dean gave Sam a bit of a squint.

 

“Yeah, what the hell, Sammy?”  He asked quietly, feeling that the action had been unnecessary.

 

Sam shook his head, not believing how this day was going.

 

Ned began thinking about heading back to the counter, not understanding the fascination with these people.

 

As he began to stand up, he realised that there were no other customers left in the Pie Hole.

 

“Was it your mother or your father who was the necromancer before you?” Castiel asked very politely.

 

Ned blinked.

 

He couldn’t have heard that correctly.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked a little quietly.

 

Chuck’s mouth popped open, before she assumed the posture of not understanding.

 

Castiel repeated himself.

 

Ned sat back down, wondering how the hell they knew about his condition.

 

“… Uhhhhh.”  Was all that he could manage, his mouth hanging open slightly.

 

He looked at Chuck almost helplessly.

 

“I… Don’t know what you mean.”  He managed, his mind spiralling as his thoughts picked up speed in his alarm at the sudden mention of what he supposed he truly was.

 

Chuck’s fears started to go in another direction, as to how they knew and why they were there.

 

Castiel noted the look of alarm on her face.

 

“You have no reason to fear, I am not here for you.”  He told her in a slightly gentler tone, trying to ease her troubled mind.

 

Chuck shot to her feet, pulling Ned to his feet, careful to only touch beneath his arm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

 

Castiel disappeared for a moment, reappearing directly on front of the couple.

 

Ned’s eyes widened massively, as he windmilled backwards, hitting just the tip of Chuck’s hair as he rapidly descended towards the hard floor.

 

Castiel swiftly reached out, preventing his fall, as Chuck fell back into the booth to avoid Ned touching her skin, landing heavily onto Sam.

 

Ned swallowed in panic, ignoring everyone else as he rushed towards Chuck.

 

What had he done?

 

“Are you all right?”  He called out in alarm, a look of complete fear on his young face as he hoped desperately for a response.

 

Chuck opened her eyes, and apologised to Sam, before sitting up and brushing her hair from her face.

 

As she did, a large clump of long, wavy brown hair came loose into her closed hand.

 

Ned looked both very relieved and extremely apologetic, as he stood feeling as though he should have stayed in bed that morning.

 

Olive walked into the dining room to find Chuck holding a handful of hair, looking rather confused.

 

“ _Now_ what is going on?”  She asked, hands on her hips.

 

Everyone was looking far too serious, Ned looked as though he’d seen a ghost, and everything was just plain weird.

 

Castiel slowly reached out, touching her forehead.

 

He caught her as she rolled her eyes and collapsed, setting her gently atop one of the nearby tables.

 

Dean gave him a bit of a look.

 

“What?”  Castiel asked innocently.

 

“What the hell was that?”  Sam asked, having never seen Castiel perform this sort of trick before.

 

“She… Was causing me intense discomfort.”  He answered in slight confusion.

 

No human had ever evoked such a reaction in him before, and he was not prepared to deal with it for another moment.

 

Dean nodded.

 

“Hey, same here.”  He said honestly, kind of glad that Olive was now unconscious.

 

“I hate to break this up, but how did you get from there…”  Chuck pointed at the booth.  “To there?”  She pointed at him.

 

Ned wondered that, too.

 

“Yeah, and what did you do to my friend?”  He asked, hoping that she’d be all right.

 

Castiel reassured them both that Olive would be perfectly fine.

 

“It is complicated.”  He replied, wondering how he could explain his method of travel in a way that their minds could comprehend.

 

Ned was beginning to feel very tired.

 

“Look, can you just go.”  He asked, trying to be polite.

 

Castiel looked almost sympathetic.

 

“I cannot do that, Ned.”  He told the pie-maker, who visibly slumped at this.

 

“Please?”  He tried, reaching into his pocket and speed-dialling Emerson.

 

Chuck got to her feet.

 

“Look, why can’t you just leave him alone?  He’s not hurting anyone!”  Chuck said defensively.  “In fact, he’s helped a lot of people.”

 

Castiel nodded knowingly.

 

“Yes, I am aware of that.”  He told her.  “But, I am not here to punish Ned, but to help.”

 

Dean cocked an eyebrow.

 

“You know, I’m getting kind of curious, exactly what do you want with him?”  He asked, feeling uncomfortably full.

 

“I am not sure that we should discuss this here.”  Castiel told them.

 

Chuck threw her hands up in the air.

 

“Then by all means, take us to your secret lair!”  She told them sarcastically, making Castiel frown.

 

“Yes, I was about to make such a suggestion.”  Castiel told her, taking a step towards her with an outstretched hand.

 

Chuck jumped back, retracting what she’d said with a touch of panic.

 

“Cas, you’re freaking them out.”  Sam said, sliding out of the booth.

 

Castiel frowned.

 

“That was not my intention.”  He said, not understanding why his actions had unsettled the young woman.

 

He let his hand fall, wondering how to put their minds more at ease.

 

But, upon realising that there wasn’t enough time, he rapidly jabbed both Ned and Chuck in the forehead, taking them to the bunker.

 

He then returned for the Winchesters, taking hold of their arms and transporting them as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few short moments later, Emerson Cod walked into the diner to find it completely empty.

 

As he glanced around, Castiel suddenly appeared at the table that the group had been sitting at, picking up the pie that Dean had left behind.

 

Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by the seasoned detective.

 

“Oh, hell naw!”  He exclaimed, wondering what freakiness he’d stumbled upon now.

 

Castiel gave him a quick look, before leaving with the pie.

 

Emerson blinked, looking around and wondering what had just happened, before reluctantly continuing his search for the purple dead man nakedly dashing around the city.

 

 

 

 

Castiel returned to find Ned hyperventilating, while Chuck sat on the edge of the table and tried to verbally console her boyfriend.

 

Sam rubbed his temples.

 

This day was really turning out badly.

 

Dean regarded the pie-maker with a mildly concerned frown, before walking over to Castiel, asking what the hell was going on.

 

As he took the pie, he waited for Castiel to tell him.

 

Castiel didn’t explain, instead, he walked past Dean over to Ned.

 

He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, and eased his panic.

 

Ned looked surprised, feeling much better than he had in years, his nervousness abated.

 

“Thank-you?”  Ned told him a little questioningly.

 

“You are welcome.” Castiel replied, straightening up.

 

“Now, I realise that what I’m about to explain to you will be difficult to take seriously…”  He began, standing in front of Ned and looking unblinkingly into his brown eyes.

 

“But, you are in very grave danger.  We all are.”

 

Dean sat down, listening with interest, wondering what the danger would be this time.

 

Ned began to feel anxious once more, as his stomach began to clench.

 

“Look, I’m just a fucking _pie-maker_ …”  Ned grumbled, surprising Chuck, who’d never before heard him swear.

 

He looked over to Chuck and quickly apologised.

 

Chuck didn’t seem too bothered.

 

“No, it’s fine.  I like it.”  She admitted, making Ned blush.

 

Castiel cleared his throat.

 

“Your powers are what are making you so vulnerable, what is threatening the well-being of the entire population of earth, as well as the lives of higher beings.”

 

Sam rubbed his forehead.

 

“Can you get to the point, Cas?”  He asked in annoyance.

 

Castiel shot him a bitchface.

 

“I was, when you so rudely interrupted, Sam.”  He pointed out evenly.

 

“Ned, there are those who would seek you out to possess you in order to amplify your abilities and raise the dead for their own evil purposes.”

 

Ned blinked, taking this strange news in, and not sure what to believe at this point.

 

He decided to let this strange person finish speaking, before making any sort of judgement.

 

“Of course, the same rules would apply, meaning that for each being given life once more, an equal life would be sacrificed in return.”  Castiel said a little quietly, a bleakness in his monotone.

 

“Amplified by how much?”  Sam asked.

 

Castiel pressed his lips together.

 

“… That would depend upon the demon in possession of Ned’s body.  Regardless, the results would be catastrophic.”  He answered the best that he could.

 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Chuck, who hopped from the table.

 

“Wait a minute, demons?”  She asked in disbelief.  “You mean the whole ‘horns, pointed tail and pitchfork’ demon?”

 

Dean shook his head.

 

“Forget everything you’ve heard about demons, Freckles, because it’s all crap.”  He suggested.  “Most of the time, any demon that you see is going to look exactly like anyone else.”

 

Chuck frowned.

 

“Freckles?  You have freckles!”  Chuck stated.  “That’s like the worst nickname ever, by the way.”

 

Dean blinked.

 

“That’s not the point… Although, I suppose ‘reanimated corpse’ is catchier, now that you say something.”  He said in annoyance, wishing that he had a better comeback and knowing that he’d think of one far too late.

 

Chuck sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

“I see you’d get along with Emerson.”  She said under her breath, before shooting him a sideways glance.  “My name is Chuck.  I’d ask you yours, but you’d probably just show me another phony ID.”

 

Dean let out a breath.

 

“It’s Dean.”  He told her in a slightly softer tone, before being cut off by Ned.

 

“So, that’s it then?”  He asked touchily.  “I get told that some demons want to possess me, and you two are going to switch the topic to freckles and nicknames?!”

 

Chuck apologised.

 

“Sorry, I don’t know how we got off topic, anyways…”  She said in embarrassment.

 

Ned huffed, crossing his arms and trying to keep his cool.

 

“So what, we take away his powers to keep him from being possessed or something?”  Sam asked, pacing.  “It’s not like we can just lock him up in the basement.”

 

Castiel cast Ned a look.

 

“No, we cannot.”  He agreed.  “But, he must stay here until…”

 

Castiel trailed off, not meaning to have gotten ahead of himself.

 

“So, what, you’re just going to keep him locked up here as if he doesn’t even have a life of his own?”  Chuck asked indignantly.

 

“Unless you don’t want him to have a life at all, I’d say so.”  Dean replied, thinking that it was obvious.

 

Chuck glared at him.

 

“So, if someone said that to keep you safe, you had to be locked up in some tiny, dark room for the rest of your life, you’d just let them, and forget that there’s the whole world out there?  That everything you knew and everyone you’d ever loved is out there, and you would never, ever get to see them again?”  She demanded.

 

“You say ‘until’, but ‘until’ can be a very long time, maybe too long a time for some people.”

 

Ned looked between Chuck and Dean, feeling a swell of emotion at Chuck’s words.

 

That she wanted to protect him like this meant a lot.

 

If they got out of this alive, he decided to propose when all of this was over.

 

“Until Ned agrees to be possessed for the good of all mankind.”  Castiel finished a little dramatically.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.

 

Ned hadn't been expecting this turn.

 

“What?”  He asked, and Castiel reiterated obligingly.

 

“Okay, well, that’s just insane.”  Ned stated.  “This is crazy; I've got to be hallucinating… I've been drugged, somehow… That’s probably what’s happened.”

 

Castiel gave him a pitying look, and Sam’s brows knit together.

 

“You raise the dead.  How is this so out of whack for you?”  He asked validly, as Dean barely hid his amusement.

 

Ned let out a stressed laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

"Perhaps we should let the necromancer rest for the time being."  Castiel suggested, and Sam crossed his arms.

 

"Yeah, whatever."  He sighed, getting to his feet.

 

"We should probably get back to Cour d'Cours and find that demon soon.  You take an hour to get your head around this, then we'll get back there, alright?"

 

He gestured for Ned to follow him.

 

Ned sighed and followed somewhat reluctantly.

 

 

 

When they had left the room, Chuck turned to Castiel.

 

"First of all, what kind of possession?  Second, for the third and final time, how did we just 'pop' here?"  She asked, shrugging.  "Did we just apparate?"

 

Castiel squinted slightly, and came uncomfortably close.

 

Chuck put a hand on his chest, and pushed him back a step or two.  "That's better."  She smiled at him warmly.

 

Castiel looked a bit confused by this, but he continued on regardless.

 

"Back in the fourteenth century, I helped a Hindu Goddess-"

 

Dean strode over.  "Could we cut it short this time and actually get to the point, Cas?"  He interrupted, giving Chuck a bit of a smile.  She returned one in favour.

 

"You doing alright?"  He asked her, and Chuck hopped off the table.

 

"Actually, now that I'm over most of the shock, this is pretty interesting."  She shrugged, clasping her hands in front of her.  "I suppose it's because I have a fairly open mind."

 

Dean gently raised an eyebrow and started to nod.

 

Just as he started to open his mouth to speak, Castiel clapped him on the upper arm.

 

"The story _is_ the point, Dean."  He said patiently, looking into his eyes.  "Now, may I continue?"

 

"Fourteenth century?"  Chuck asked, tipping her head to the side.

 

Castiel nodded and went on to explain about the escapade in fourteenth century Egypt.

 

Chuck sat in rapt attention, hanging onto his every word, interrupting only every now and again to ask a question.

 

"Mohini.  I know that name."  Chuck said, screwing up her face, trying to remember.

 

"She is the goddess of seduction and revenge."  Castiel stated in explanation.

 

Chuck nodded.  "Ah, yes.  She sounds fun."  She said with a small smile.

 

Castiel shook his head.  "She really is not."  He told her grimly.

 

 

 

 

After Castiel left to find Mohini, who really wasn't keen to be stuffed in a peasant white boy, Chuck and Dean were left alone.

 

"So..."  Dean said.

 

Chuck looked at him expectantly.  "Yes?"  She asked.

 

Dean jerked his head towards where Ned and Sam disappeared.  "You two serious?"  He asked nonchalantly.

 

"Um."  Chuck murmured, squinting one eye.  "It's, uh, complicated."  She nodded, figuring that that was the best answer she could come up with.

 

Dean quietly cleared his throat.  "I see."  He said with a nod.

 

Chuck wondered why he kept nodding and smiling at her like that.  She figured that he was just friendly.

 

Dean leaned against a cold wall.  "Complicated, how?"

 

Chuck blinked and looked at the ceiling, fiddling with her fingers.  "Um, would you consider not being able to physically touch one another complicated?"  She asked.

 

Dean frowned.  "He's afraid of human contact or something?"  He asked less than tactfully.

 

"If I can't say it to you guys, who can I say it to?"  Chuck asked.  "I'm...  The walking dead."  She admitted, hopping off the table.

 

Dean straightened up.

 

"Wow, okay, so, he's the one who brought you back then?  That explains it.  How'd it happen, how'd you die?"  He asked curiously.

 

Chuck shrugged.  "Suffocated with a happy face bag and shoved off a cruise ship."  She answered bluntly.

 

Dean paused for a moment.  "That's a hell of a way to go..."  He replied.

 

"It's worse to be remembered as the dead girl from that trip."  She returned.  "Worse still, you should have seen the photos they were putting on the news."

 

Dean looked vaguely sympathetic.  "Yeah, that would be rough."  He agreed.  "Have you at least been able to keep in contact with your family?"

 

Chuck grimaced.  "Well, at first I couldn't."  She answered.  "Ned thought it would be safer for me to pretend I was dead, that way no questions would come up.  But, after a while, we agreed that it just wasn't... good to be like that, so now I'm seeing Aunt Lily and Vivian again."

 

There was the sound of heavy footsteps, and Sam peeked in before frowning.  "Where's Cas?"  He asked, before awkwardly waving back at Chuck, who was smiling widely at him.

 

He could swear that the whole town of Coeur D’Cours was on something.  It just wasn’t natural to be so…  Happy and upbeat.

 

Dean waved his hand in the air.  "He went off to find... some deity.  Molini, or something, I don't know."  He said disinterestedly.

 

Sam looked thoughtful.  "Do you mean Mohini?"  He asked, hoping that he was wrong.

 

Dean shrugged.  "Yeah, that sounds about right."  He replied.  "Why?"

 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

"Oh, this is not good."  He looked at both of them.  "Mohini is the Hindu goddess of seduction and revenge.  She is said to have once caused one of her suitors to self-immolate.  If that's who Cas is getting, we'll be no better off than if it was, say, Crowley."

 

Dean shook his head.  "Look, if Cas says she's all right, then she is."  He insisted, crossing his arms.

 

Sam gave him a look.  "Yeah, 'cause it's not like Cas has ever lead us down the wrong path before."  He said sarcastically.

 

Dean pointed at him, giving him a knowing look.  "We've all made mistakes, Sam.  Give him some credit."  He said, Sam narrowed his eyes.

 

"I think if she's serious, Mohini is probably a good choice."  Chuck jumped in.  "I mean, all her exploits aside, Mohini was made for protection, so if not her, who better to protect Ned?"

 

Dean nodded.  "Well, see, she agrees."  He pointed out smugly.  "Looks like you're the only one with an issue."

 

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  "Dean,” He said in a low voice.

 

Dean shrugged.  "I'm just sayin'..."  He replied.

 

Chuck smiled.  "You two act like brothers."  She told them, thinking of her aunts.

 

Sam cast her a look.  "We are."  He stated dismissively.

 

Chuck nodded.

 

Dean sighed.  "Fine, what do you propose we do, exactly?"  He asked in annoyance, brow furrowed.

 

Sam gestured to the many books around them.

 

"Ned inherited the necromancy skills, so we should probably be able to remove them with a spell."

 

He looked over to Chuck.  "It would probably be better for him anyways.  Make his life more normal."

 

Dean shuffled his feet.

 

"Yeah, okay, but if it was that simple, don't you think Cas might have said something?"  He asked, not all that impressed with his brother's words.

 

Sam watched Chuck walk over and pull a thick, dusty book off of a shelf.

 

"I think Cas sometimes doesn't think of the easiest option when it comes to things like this."  He pointed out, thinking of a few good examples.

 

"Right, you go ahead and try and find a spell that works, and Cas and I will actually do something about the issue at hand, okay?"  Dean told him touchily.

 

Sam rolled his eyes and went off in search of a box of spells in the basement he'd found a few weeks back while tidying up.

 

 

 

 

In a flash, Castiel had relocated to a vague point in a large desert.

 

The sun was shining high in the sky, and the temperature was soaring as he stood before a gigantic temple decorated with various intricate gold designs.

 

It was an elaborate work, although there was virtually nobody that would ever see it outside of Mohini's servants.

 

Castiel walked up to the large pure gold doors and knocked.

 

He knew better than to have simply appeared before her.

 

The last time he'd done that he had caught her in a rather compromising position involving a dozen or so individuals and a golden trident.

 

He would have preferred not to experience such a thing again.  It had been unpleasant to bear witness to that violently explicit display.

 

A few moments later, a small child swung one of the doors open and let him in.

 

Only those with permission from Mohini herself could see the temple, and therefore the child had no qualms about permitting him access.

 

He easily found the woman that he'd come to see, sitting calmly on a huge purple cushion in the main room, sunbeams streaming down upon her from the high windows.

 

"Mohini."  Castiel greeted her politely, ever so slightly inclining his head out of respect.

 

"Salutations, servant."  She greeted him serenely, a sly smile curving her lips.

 

She tipped her head to the one side.  "New body?"  She asked him.

 

Castiel nodded.

 

She rose to her feet.  "Hmmm... I believe I prefer the old one."  She responded thoughtfully.  "The other one looked more fun, Cassie."

 

Castiel shuddered visibly at this, but said nothing.

 

Mohini frowned.

 

"This one makes you look so serious.  Unfortunately, it suits you."  She said, turning on her heel, collecting a platter of ripe peaches.

 

She offered the platter to him, and he took one of the pieces of fruit to be polite, though he had no intention of eating it.

 

Generally, consuming food was something he couldn't stand, as the flavour was too intensely strong.

 

Mohini took a peach herself, before dropping the platter which disappeared into the floor.

 

"You really don't have the stomach for food, do you?"  She asked him, taking a bite.

 

"It's a shame, life's more fun when there's flavour."

 

Castiel regarded her for a moment.

 

"Yes, though it seems that you enjoy enough flavour for at least the both of us, if not more."  He answered her bluntly.

 

"Now, I have come here to ask you a favour.”

 

Mohini walked around the room, her charms tinkling with each movement.

 

"And what be the favour?"  Mohini asked curiously.  "Please let it be fun."

 

"You are among the strongest deities that I know, and as you have many powerful skills, I have come to seek your aid."  Castiel began.

 

"I need you to take possession of a necromancer."

 

Mohini came and drooped her arm across his shoulders, her bejewelled fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, turning his head so that he looked her in the eye.

 

 

"Hm, that sounds boring, Castiel."  She told him, smiling prettily.  "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

 

Castiel's jaw set.

 

"Mine is no request, Mohini."  Castiel warned her.  "You owe me a great deal for a certain boon that I granted you so very long ago, and I have come to collect on that."

 

Mohini sniffed, her fingers trailing towards his throat.

 

"May I remind you that only two beings in this whole universe may tell me what to do?"  She threatened, her fingers about his throat giving a slight playful squeeze.

 

Castiel disappeared momentarily, appearing once more about three feet before her.

 

"Should you choose not to comply, this planet that you so love will come to ruin, leaving no place for you, nor anyone else."  Castiel told her, his voice deepening slightly and his eyes growing more serious.

 

Mohini looked to the ceiling contemplatively.

 

"Ah, now your kind tends to be kind of over dramatic about this.  The rapture, Armageddon, apocalypse, end of days, etc. ad nauseam."

 

Castiel stifled an aggravated sigh.

 

"Please.  For me."  He asked her a little gentler than before.

 

Mohini smiled at him.

 

"Oh, you always were cute, weren't you?  Fine, but not for long."  She caved in.

 

Castiel nodded.

 

"Good.  Come with me, if you will, and we shall begin."  He stated, pleased that she had relented.

 

Mohini offered a long, delicate hand towards him, which he took, and they swiftly travelled to the bunker.

 

 

 

 

 

As Sam and Dean went about their own business, with Chuck absorbed in a book, Castiel and Mohini appeared in the den.

 

It was empty, though Castiel was able to pinpoint the exact location of each person in the place.

 

He asked Mohini to stay where she was and he rounded up the boys.

 

Dean couldn't help himself from staring a bit at her lovely form.

 

Mohini looked only to be about 23 and was in her prime.

 

She was classically beautiful, not to mention scantily clad.

 

Small coins decorated every edge of the fabric covering her.

 

She stared back at him.

 

"Please, tell me that's the one I possess."  She said to Castiel.

 

The elder Winchester gave a mild smirk.

 

"Yeah, no."  Dean replied, pointing at Ned who stood beside Sam, looking a touch nervous.

 

Mohini walked over to Ned, apprising him, even going so far as to open his mouth and look at his teeth.

 

Ned made an indignant sound and moved away, feeling violated.

 

"Well, he's not as attractive as I'd like, but in the current situation, I'll have to make do."  She half-sighed.

 

Ned blinked, insulted.

 

Castiel walked over to him, giving him an explanation of what would happen as Mohini took over his body, mildly horrifying him without meaning to.

 

Ned sighed.

 

"I really don't have any choice in the matter, do I?"  He asked in resignation, still hoping that this was all a nightmare.

 

"I am afraid not."  Castiel told him, as Mohini began taking over Ned's body prematurely.

 

Chuck eyed 'Ned' nervously.

 

"How are you doing?"  She asked sweetly.

 

Ned's eyes bulged in fear as he flailed his limbs about.

 

It was an awful sort of feeling, as though his entire body was slowly falling asleep only completely different.

 

He opened his mouth to say something, when his eyes closed and his jaw fell slack, collapsing into Castiel's arms.

 

A moment or two later, his body became conscious once again.

 

Ned immediately began running his hands along his body.

 

"So thin!  Why couldn't he have a little bit of meat on him?"  He asked indignantly, twisting this way and that to look at his butt.  "Cute tush, though."

 

Dean blinked, watching the scene in mild amusement.

 

Ned looked between Dean, Sam and Chuck.

 

"One of you want to help me break in this new body?"  He asked seductively, licking his lip.

 

Chuck covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, as Castiel reminded Mohini that she was only possessing Ned to keep him safe, not for her own amusement and pleasure.

 

"Oh, pooh!  I can do both, you know."  Ned argued, before tapping his temple.  "Besides, judging by what's in here, it wouldn't do him any harm."

 

Castiel frowned.

 

"That is not the point."  He maintained firmly, his blue eyes sharp.  "You will stay here and keep Ned from harm, while we diminish any threat against him."

 

Ned ignored him.

 

"How about you, stretch?  You wanna play slap and tickle?"  He asked Sam.

 

Dean looked over to his brother.

 

"Well, answer the lady, Sam."  He encouraged, entertained by the look on Sam's face.

 

"Uh, no, thanks...  I'll pass this time."  He told Ned.

 

Ned put his hands on his hips.

 

"Did I just come into a bunch of monks?  How about you cowboy, you look like you’re ready for anything."  Ned asked Dean, who also declined.

 

"Sorry.  Born again virgin."  He answered simply, pointing at his chest.

 

Ned sashayed over, licking Dean's face from chin to forehead.  "I can change that."  Ned offered.

 

Dean blinked, half-disgusted, but only half.

 

"Still no."  He stated firmly.  "No means no."

 

Ned looked at Chuck, who shook her head.

 

"Can't.  Thank you, though."  She replied politely.

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He spat, evoking a sharp look from Castiel.

 

"Oh, like you never swear."  Ned told Castiel pointedly.

 

“I most certainly do not.”  Castiel replied with a touch of offence.

 

Dean crossed his arms.  "Can we get on with this or what?"  He asked, becoming bored with the scene.

 

Chuck stood up straight.

 

"We forgot Olive!  Poor Olive, she's probably so scared, we just left her asleep there."  She remembered, feeling very guilty.

 

"There is no need to worry, Olive will remain unconscious for another six hours."  Castiel tried to comfort her, but she only became more agitated.

 

"The door's unlocked!"  She cried, hopping up and down.  "We have to go back there, make sure that she's okay."

 

Castiel silently stalked over to her, poking her and transporting her to the Pie Hole.

 

She found herself alone with the exception of Olive and one small homeless girl who had wandered in and was now in the process of eating an entire tray of cup-pies.

 

Chuck looked at the girl, who shoved as many cup-pies as she could into her ratty clothes and ran for it.

 

Chuck sighed and she tried to shake Olive awake, though she failed.

 

She phoned Emerson, leaving a message asking him for the update on the dead man roaming the streets and to call her aunts as soon as he got the message, mentioning that Olive was sleeping soundly in the shoppe.

 

Afterwards, she headed over to her aunts’ house, anxiety laden and tired.

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Kevin came out of his room after doing far too much research on some old runes that he'd run across in one of the folders that he'd found on the floor on one of the various rooms.

 

He was on his way to make himself a quick sandwich, and as he passed the den, he noticed the gang, and a visitor, standing around talking.

 

His hunger forgotten, he slowly approached, his curiosity getting the better of him.

 

"Perfect.  Kevin, we're going out again, so we need you to watch, uh..."  Sam said, looking at Ned and wondering which name he should use.

 

Ned rolled his eyes and took a step towards Kevin.  "My name is Mohini, and it's nice to meet you... Kevin."  He said huskily, noticing the powerful aura around the young man.

 

Dean shook his head.

 

"I don't know, man...  Maybe that's not such a great idea."  Dean objected quietly to his brother.

 

Sam sighed.

 

"Mohini, can you just, I don't know, sit by yourself in a room for an hour or two and leave Kevin alone to his stuff."  Sam amended.

 

Ned rolled his eyes again.

 

"You guys are just so BORING."   He complained loudly, sagging a little at the knees.

 

"Maybe, if you're really good, we'll bring you home a nice stripper as a reward."  Dean shot at Ned, getting annoyed.

 

Ned sank into a chair, his boredom already plain.

 

"That might work for somebody lowbrow like yourself, but some of us have higher tastes."  Ned snipped, before waving him away.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow, biting back a remark, knowing that it wouldn't do any good.

 

"Go on, have your little party."  Ned told them.  "I'll just sit here, and read an outdated magazine until you come home."

 

He reached for one from the stack on the table next to the chair.

 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but shrugged it off.

 

 

 

 

"It's so good to have you back home, Charlotte."  Aunt Vivian told Chuck, putting a tray of cookies and cheese on the coffee table.

 

"It was just so sad around here in this old house without you."  She sighed and sat down, her eyes downcast.

 

Lily took a drink of her vodka, and nodded.

 

"So.  What have you been doing all this time?"  She asked tonelessly, looking at her glass.

 

Chuck pinched her hands between her knees.  "Well, I... I've been making pies."  Chuck said hesitantly, wanting to avoid alarming her aunts by saying that in almost all the time she had been apart from them, she had been solving crimes with the pie-maker and Emerson Cod, who was still on the hunt for the reanimated, purple policeman.

 

"That's it?"  Aunt Lily asked incredulously. "Four years and all you've got to show for it is pie?"

 

She finally looked at her daughter, and Chuck looked at her feet.

 

"Now, Lily, be nice."  Vivian pleaded, tapping her sister on the wrist.  "It could have been something much worse that Charlotte did in those years."  She smiled at her niece.

 

Lily muttered to herself, shaking her head.

 

Chuck felt a sudden urge to tell her aunts every vital detail of the past four years; the cases, the corpses, the twists and turns, as well as her newest escapade.

 

She looked at Vivian's smiling face and smiled back, swallowing the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

 

"What?"  Lily asked, seeing that Chuck wanted to say something.

 

Her daughter just sighed quietly and closed her eyes.

 

"It's nothing.  I'm just glad to be home."  She told them before leaning over the coffee table and hugging them both.

 

"That's wonderful."  Vivian said, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

 

"And your room is exactly the way you left it."  She tipped her head to the side, slightly.  "Well, not exactly.  We've kept it tidy, and... well... it just was never quite the same."

 

Lily elbowed Vivian.  "She doesn't want to come back here and live with us."  She snapped grumpily, looking unhappy.  "She's not a child any more, for crying out loud."

 

Chuck sat there, torn.

 

She wasn't a child any more, and she was happy living with Ned, even if it was awkward, but she didn't want to leave her aunts yet again, nor disappoint them further.

 

Vivian sat up straighter.

 

"We'll let Charlotte decide."  She said firmly, turning to face her niece.  "Charlotte?  What do you want?"

 

Frantically looking from one woman to the other, Chuck felt her throat go dry.

 

If only there was a way for her to keep her independence, as well as make her family happy.

 

Just as she was opening her mouth, the doorbell rang.

 

Vivian looked around, shocked.  "Now who could that be?"  She asked in her babyish voice.

 

Lily didn't move, so Vivian got up and answered the door, finding Olive pale and agitated on the front porch.

 

"Oh, poor Olive!"  She said, stepping aside.  "What's wrong?  You look like you seen a ghost."

 

Olive took a deep breath.

 

"Chuck and Ned are gone, and I can't reach Emerson... You know about Emerson, right?  Anyway, they're all missing!"  She said, before coming into the parlour and seeing Chuck.

 

"What the sweet biscuits are you doing here?!"  She demanded in a panicky tone, pointing at Chuck in awe.  "Where is everyone?"

 

Chuck paused, thankful of the distraction.

 

"Um... well, I think Emerson is still looking for Greg.  Ned is in those guys' secret lair, you know the guys from the Pie Hole?  Yeah, he's... visiting with them for a while.  But he's ok, though."

 

Olive leaned in close.

 

"Did they tell you to say that?"  She asked in a low voice, her brows knit together tightly.  "Is Ned really kidnapped?  It's ok, you can tell me."

 

Chuck tipped her head to the side.

 

"Olive, he really is fine."  She stated firmly.  "The guys are actually really nice."

 

Olive squinted at her.

 

"Sure, they knocked me out, and politely kidnapped Ned."  She said sarcastically.  "I'm sure they're great."

 

Vivian broke her no touching rule, and put her hands on Olive's shoulders.

 

"Oh no!"  She cried, turning Olive to face her.

 

"They didn't hurt you, dear?  Did they?"  She looked at Chuck.  "And they kidnapped Ned?  Well, we'll just have to call the police."

 

Olive went and grabbed the phone as Chuck bolted to her feet.

 

"No!"  She nearly shouted.

 

Lily shushed her for the outburst.

 

"Let them call the cops."  She grumbled calmly.  "You want your little boyfriend back, don't you?"

 

Chuck felt a tightness in her chest.

 

"They're the FBI."  She lied.  "Ned is under protective services for now."  She glanced at Olive.

 

"And he didn't knock you out.  Castiel touched your forehead and you fainted."  That sounded like it wouldn't wash, but who got knocked out by someone touching their forehead?

 

"But, if they're FBI, wouldn't they know how to knock someone out with just a touch?"  Aunt Vivian asked.

 

"Exactly!"  Olive chimed, before turning and facing Chuck, who was really floundering at this point.

 

"I- There was a case he helped Emerson with a while ago."

 

She said, making it up as she went.  "A man died with mob ties.  Now the mob might be looking for Ned to see what he knows."

 

She wondered if that sounded plausible.

 

"Oh."  Olive said, accepting that instantly.  "That explains it."

 

Vivian's hands fluttered to her mouth.

 

"Oh, that sounds dangerous!"  She exclaimed. "But, wouldn't being connected to Ned make you a target as well?"  She looked at Lily, concerned.

 

"She's right."  Lily agreed.  "Anyone directly associated with Ned should be put under protection."

 

She crossed her legs and adjusted her eye-patch.  "Do you have any contact information?  I'll call."

 

Chuck felt her eyes widen.

 

"No."  She said simply.  "They never gave me anything like that."  She was happy that that at least wasn't a lie.

 

Lily got to her feet, pouring some of Vivian's special rosewater lemonade into her empty tumbler.

 

"You know, I could always tell when you were lying, Charlotte."  She said thoughtfully, and Chuck shook her head.

 

"No, they really didn't give me any way to contact them."  She pleaded.

 

Lily walked right over and looked in Chuck's eyes, her singular orb flicking back and forth.

 

Chuck bit her lip, and Lily crossed her arms.

 

"Why don't you tell us what really happened?"  She prodded.

 

Suddenly, Chuck was overcome with the urge to say it all.  After all, it was all so unbelievable, why would they ever take her words at their value?

 

Lily raised her eyebrows.  "Well?"

 

Chuck swallowed, and told herself, 'no more lies'.

 

As she opened her mouth, the whole story, the whole truth came, starting from waking up in the coffin, being sure to mention the important details, and why she had kept them secret at first.

 

Some of it was too bizarre to understand, and when she got to the part about meeting an angel, Vivian stopped her.

 

"What kind of angel?"  She asked, frowning, as Olive stared at Chuck in disbelief and worry.

 

Chuck blinked, surprised that this was the part her aunt had a problem with.

 

"I don't know."  She answered.  "He was tall, rough looking and wore a trench coat.  He didn't seem to have wings."

 

Lily encouraged her to go on, listening intently.  She could see that what Chuck said appeared to be the truth for her daughter, and that was good enough for her, at least right now.

 

"Well, then he poked us in the forehead, and we appeared in this underground place, it was almost like a bunker, only made out of a library."  Chuck continued, shaking her head at herself.  Inside her head, this all sounded a bit more believable.

 

"And then Castiel, the angel, he disappeared and got Mohini to come and possess Ned, and now they're looking for the dead policeman."

 

Olive glanced covertly over at the aunts.  "Should I call the doctor?"  She asked in a stage whisper.

 

"Olive!"  Chuck said reproachfully, crossing her arms.  "You saw Castiel; didn't he seem different for everyone else you've ever met?"

 

"He looked like a burnt out tax accountant."  Olive shrugged.  “Cute, but definitely an average Joe.

 

"We've got this under control."  Aunt Lily said, nearly pushing Olive out of the living room and out the door, before turning back to Chuck.

 

"Don't worry, we believe you."  She cast her eye on Vivian, and glared.  "Don't we?"

 

Vivian only gave a small wave of her hand.  "I actually do."  She said, sipping her lemonade.  "I met an angel like that before."  She looked at Lily and blinked.  "I didn't want to say anything, because I didn't think that you'd be so willing to believe me."  She turned her head towards Chuck.  "Mine looked like a Mormon."

 

Lily sat down.  "Good."  She muttered, not really sure what to say to this.

 

Driving a little too fast, Emerson was hoping that he was right on the dead cop's tail.

 

He just got word that a hideous, purple naked man robbed a hot dog cart, and was running down the street with arms full of buns and wieners.

 

Going around a corner, Emerson wished that Ned was there to stop this dead guy.

 

"Where the hell is he?"  He muttered to himself, flipping open his cell phone.

 

On chance alone, his finger hit the wrong button for speed-dial and he got Olive instead.

 

Rolling his eyes, Emerson asked if she knew where Ned was.

 

"I'm right on top of this guy, and I need his creepy magic touch."  He added.

 

"You want the dead guy's magic touch?"  She asked, purposely misconstruing it.

 

She heard Emerson sigh deeply.

 

"Ok, what's the address?"  She asked.  "Ned's M.I.A but I'll see what I can do to help."

 

Emerson rolled his eyes again.

 

The woman was the size of a pixie.

 

Why did she think that she would really be any help against an overweight dead guy that was taller than him?

 

"Sure, and after this, why don't we help Encyclopaedia Brown find the missing bicycle?"  He asked sarcastically.

 

Olive ignored him.

 

"Are you going to give me that address or not?"  She asked impatiently, and Emerson resisted the urge to sigh again.

 

Well, she was better than nothing, he figured, before giving her the street address.

 

"How soon can you be there?"  He asked her, speeding again.

 

"Fifteen minutes."  She answered.  "I need to pick up Digby first."

 

"Forget the dog.”  Emerson told her.

 

"But-” Olive protested, though Emerson cut her off.

 

“Forget.  The.  Dog."  He said with great emphasis.

 

"Fine, I'll be there in less than five minutes."  She said in disappointment.

 

The dog might have come in useful in chasing her dead ex.  Oh, well.

 

 

 

Emerson was already there when Olive arrived.

 

He was standing outside a children's playground, hands on his hips as he watched Greg Martello's purpling legs flail helplessly about at the bottom of the tube slide.

 

Emerson added that to the list of things he wished he'd never seen.

 

The list seemed to be growing daily.

 

Olive walked up to him, staring in mild shock.

 

Emerson passed her the tub of discount hand lotion he picked up at the drug store across the street.

 

"You've got little hands."  He said by way of greeting and explanation.

 

Olive shook her head.

 

"Nuh-uh."  She said.  "Not doing it."  She reached up and slapped his arm.  "You've got this, big guy."

 

He gave her a look.

 

"You wanted to help, so help already."  He said, pointing at the legs that were still kicking around pathetically.

 

"I offered to help round him up."  She corrected, and Emerson raised an eyebrow.

 

"We don't have him yet, so go round him right out of that slide, and up into my car."  He told her, giving her a push towards the playground.

 

"I didn't sign up for this."  She protested.  "And besides, you're a guy, _you_ should be doing that."

 

"You signed up for it as soon as you agreed to help."  He replied, still pushing, her pushing back against his hands.  "And you slept with the guy, you know him better that I do."

 

Olive let out an exasperated sigh, snatching the tub out of his hand.

 

"Fine."  She snapped, before going over and dutifully greasing up Greg Martello, who started to kick harder, giggling at her touch.

 

One of his flailings went wild, and his foot struck her face, sending her falling backwards.

 

"You know what?  No, I'm not doing this."  She said, climbing onto the top of the slide.

 

"I'll just pour the rest of this down the slide, and you pull."  She looked down the hole and Greg looked up.  "Well, he ain't pretty no more."  She remarked, before dumping the contents down on him.

 

Emerson grabbed Martello's legs and pulled as hard as he could.

 

It took several attempts, before the dead man popped out with a loud ‘shlurp’ sound.

 

He lay prone on the ground, not moving a muscle, looking very sad and disappointed.

 

"This sucks."  He said petulantly, pouting.

 

Olive climbed down, looking at Martello in disgust, as a parent and child approached the park, but then thought better of it and left in a hurry.

 

"Oh, great, now what are we supposed to do with him?"  Emerson asked, even though he had already figured that he'd wait for Ned to come and poke him back to dead.

 

But, where to keep him?

 

 

As they discussed it, Martello frowned at them suspiciously, shaking his head at their words.

 

"Fuck this shit."  He said, snapping his head to the side before a black cloud billowed out of his mouth, his body arching with the force, before it went completely limp.

 

Emerson looked at the roaring cloud in horror as it hovered between him and Olive.

 

It swiftly dove into her open mouth, the roaring gone, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

 

Olive swooned on the spot, before looking at Emerson, her eyes black as onyx.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Baby nosed past a school, Sam's hand landed on his brother's shoulder.

 

"Dean!"  He exclaimed, pointing at the black cloud rising in the schoolyard.

 

Dean quickly pulled over without a word, and they sprinted over, just in time to witness the demon essence spiral into the diminutive waitress from the pie shop.

 

Sam couldn't help but think that this whole case was full of too many coincidences.

 

Olive took a deep breath and looked up from the ground, her eyes a tell-tale black.

 

She let out a shrill giggle before attempting to run away.

 

Dean simply reached out and snagged her around her waist, holding her back.

 

Quickly stepping in, Sam pulled out an iron chain collar from his pocket and snapped it around Olive's neck, successfully ensnaring her with it.

 

Dean set her down, and she glared Sam spitefully, before shooting an evil glance at Dean.

 

Emerson held up a finger, starting to get over his shock.

 

"Anybody want to tell me what the hell just happened?"  He asked.

 

Olive blinked and her eyes went back to normal.

 

She put her hands on her hips as she frowned at Emerson.

 

"Aren't you going to help me?"  She demanded, trying to look frightened and indignant.

 

"Hell no, not with those freaky eyes."  Emerson told her, shaking his head.

 

Olive let her mouth drop open.

 

"What are you talking about?"  She asked, and Emerson looked at the brothers, a bit unsure of himself.

 

He pointed at Olive.

 

"You saw that, didn't you?  The weird-ass black eyes."

 

Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

 

"It's a... virus that is starting to spread."  Sam began, frowning slightly.

 

"It causes bizarre behaviour, and rapid expansion of the pupils until it appears that there is nothing but black."

 

Sam waved his hand in front of his face.  "We're from the health board."

 

Olive waved her hand.

 

"Don't be silly."  She said, shooting Emerson a furtive look.

 

"Help me."  She forced a couple of tears down her cheeks, and he felt a stab of guilt.

 

Dean smiled, holding on to Olive's elbow.

 

"We're on a tight schedule."  He said, and Emerson raised an eyebrow at the collar and leash, as Dean began to turn and walk away.

 

"Maybe you should give us your contact information, just in case you start to come down with some symptoms."

 

Sam sighed and stepped forward, notebook in hand, as he started to just list symptoms that were fairly common, but not too common.

 

"Why the collar?"  Emerson asked, coming nose to nose with Sam.  "It's not like she's a zombie, right?"

 

Sam blinked, swallowing hard.

 

It wasn't like he often came head to head with someone the same height as him.

 

"After the quote, unquote 'black eyes' manifest, the victim can, uh, display rabid tendencies.  It's for everyone's safety."

 

Dean honked the horn, and Sam looked over his shoulder.

 

Emerson poked him in the chest, and Sam took a step back, smoothing his hand over the spot.

 

"Maybe you should give me your card, inspector."  Emerson said, smiling slightly.

 

Sam hesitated.

 

"I never said I was an inspector."  He pointed out, and Emerson looked mockingly surprised.

 

"No?  I could have sworn you had said... What are you then?"  He asked, crossing his arms.

 

Sam glanced at the Impala, where Dean, who was waiting impatiently, as Olive began singing in a very high voice.

 

"ON TOP OF SPAGHETTI, ALL COVERED WITH CHEESE!"  Was heard in a slightly muffled manner as the windows were up.

 

"I'm a department commissioner."  Sam shrugged, before patting his pockets for the imaginary card.

 

He pointed at Emerson.  "You know what?  I used up my last card a couple days ago."

 

He forced a smile, and Emerson forced one right back.

 

"But, I'll write down our office number for you, alright?  Just ask for Carson or Delaney."  He tore a page out of the notebook, and scribbled a number down, before thrusting into Emerson's hands.

 

He started off, before turning on his heel.

 

"Oh, and you should go to your doctor, get a quick check up to see if you're all clear.  There's a new vaccine that might help, since you were exposed to the toxins."

 

 

 

 

With that, he loped over to the car, and slid into the seat beside Dean.

 

"Thanks!"  He snapped, pulling on his seatbelt.  "He wanted my card."

 

Olive raised her hands.

 

"ONE MORE TIME!"  She shouted, before screaming out another chorus.

 

Dean gave him a withering look.

 

"Poor baby."  He said sarcastically, before starting the car, and heading back towards the bunker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mohini rested her chin on her fist, as she watched Kevin attempt to decipher a scroll, as he tried to ignore her.

 

"Don't you do anything fun?"  Mohini asked him, swinging her legs under the table.

 

Kevin glanced up from the scroll and shrugged.

 

"Sometimes I play video games."  He answered and Mohini sat up.

 

"Great!  It's been a long time since I played any video games!  Can we?"  She begged.

 

Kevin looked at his watch and got up, hooking in the system, before turning on the TV.

 

He straightened up and passed her a controller.

 

"There you go.  Just don't turn up the volume too loud."  He told her, resuming his spot at the table.

 

Mohini looked from the controller to Kevin and back again.

 

"Aren't you going to play with me?"  She asked, her dainty brow creasing.

 

Kevin didn't even look up from his work.

 

"Maybe later."  He said noncommittally.  After all, he was a busy man with important work to complete.

 

This was too much for her.

 

Here she was, in a body no one seemed to be attracted to, being bossed around by humans, and then being ignored by this eunuch whelp, who should be fawning over her right now.

 

Mohini couldn't take it after years of being spoiled, and she hurled the controller at the far wall, shattering it.

 

Kevin jumped and looked over at the wall, where a piece of hard, green plastic was now embedded.

 

He let out a deep sigh and went back to his work.

 

Mohini stood up and slammed her palms down in front of him.

 

"That's it?"  She demanded, her forehead almost touching the top of his head.

 

"You don't care?  Maybe you'll care about this."  She cupped his cheek, and leapt into his body, leaving Ned unconscious on the floor.

 

Slowly, Mohini opened and closed her eyes.

 

It was very strange and unusual to do this.

 

Normally, she would never think of entering a person's body, least of all without their permission, but this was only the third time she had ever done so.

 

She looked at her small hands which seemed almost child-like.

 

Mohini tipped her head back.

 

"Why couldn't it have been him?"  She demanded of the near empty room.

 

"He's pretty."  As she said this, she realized that she was now, alone, with no one to talk to.

 

This was the first time she had ever been truly alone, and that thought made her almost weep.

 

With nothing to divert her, Mohini started to poke around in Kevin's head, respectfully at first, before her curiosity got the better of her.

 

Eventually, she took a trip down memory lane.

 

She watched the childhood memories stream by, with their muddled details, and sliding into the later years, which seemed to get darker with each moment.

 

Finally she got to the ones in the past few years, and became so interested that she pulled out of the back of his brain, and found her way down to the basement of the bunker.

 

 

 

 

Behind a row of cabinets, there was a hidden room, and in that room, there was a summoning circle.

 

Being no stranger to summonings, Mohini laid out the appropriate things and called the demon that was on Kevin's mind.

 

"Crowley."  She said, nodding to the stout man in the ring, taking in his slightly rumpled black suit.

 

She sighed.

 

No matter where they were from, demons never seemed to have much taste.

 

"Kevin."  Crowley answered after appearing, before frowning.

 

He started to smile.

 

He tipped his head to the side.

 

" _Not_ Kevin."  He corrected.

 

He looked her up and down.  "I don't believe I've had the pleasure..."

 

He held out his hand.

 

She bowed slightly, knowing better that to set foot in the devil's trap while he was there.

 

"No, you haven't."

 

Finally, someone was giving her the attention she deserved.

 

"I am Mohini, the destroyer."  She watched as his eyebrows went up towards his receding hairline.

 

"Oh?  Big fan, by the way."  He told her, before idly walking around the circle.

 

She knew that he was looking for a failure, but she let him do it anyway.

 

He paused and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working.

 

"So what brings the original femme fatale to the Winchesters' bright and homey basement?"  He asked, tipping his head back.

 

Mohini noticed that they were the same height.

 

"Just followed the scent of whiskey and despair."  She answered, leaning against the wall.

 

"If you're the king of hell, whatever happened to Stan?"

 

Crowley squinted, and flicked a finger.

 

"Perhaps I'm being presumptuous, but do you mean 'Satan'?"  He asked, and she shrugged.

 

"I've never really been one to follow the more modern religions."  She answered.  "Stan, Satan, what's the difference?"

 

Crowley clasped his hands in front of him.

 

"An 'A'.  And one's dead."

 

Now it was his turn to shrug.

 

"Maybe Stan's dead, too.  I've never known anyone named Stan."

 

He looked at the ceiling.

 

"Not to be rude, but if you just want a chat, I personally don't think a hunter's basement it the best place to do it.  Perhaps a nice cat cafe next time."

 

He skewed his jaw, and squinted.

 

"Unless you want to give me that yummy necromancer that's upstairs."

 

Mohini looked at her nails, bored.

 

Of course he would just want something from her.

 

"Why don't you shed the meatsuit?"  He asked, before adding, "Babe."

 

Mohini smiled to herself, but he saw it and began to flatter her.

 

"After all, it's such a pity to have delusion personified covered with a boring kid."

 

Mohini leaned forward on her knees.

 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."  She told him, smiling flirtatiously.

 

Crowley stuck his hand in his pocket and pointed at the ceiling.

 

"Meet you out side?"  He asked, raising his eyebrows.

 

Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

 

"Oh, but I thought you wanted the necromancer?"  She reminded him, wondering where this was really going.

 

"Bring him."  Crowley suggested, waving his hand towards his chest.

 

"I'll trust you'll be able to find me?"

 

Mohini crossed her arms and smiled, her eyes half closed.

 

"Without a doubt."  She answered, trailing her fingers through the air, dismissing him.

 

Once he was gone, Mohini stepped into the circle and left Kevin's body, careful to not let it fall to the floor.

Mohini went upstairs and studied Ned for a moment, turning his slack face this way and that.

 

If she left him alone, he'd sleep for hours.

 

"Hm."  She grunted, and shook her head.

 

This was truly too easy.

 

Meanwhile, after placing several calls, Emerson Cod was displeased to find out that there wasn't anyone by the name Carson or Delaney at the Health Board, but then again he wasn't too surprised at that.

 

But he was surprised at his own actions.

 

He should have done something, should have stepped in, but there was something about the whole thing that set his teeth on edge.

 

Reluctantly, Emerson dialled Chuck's number but she wasn't there.

 

Rolling his eyes, he hung up and dialled her second contact number that she had given him so proudly less than a week ago.

 

"What?"  Came an annoyed female voice.

 

Emerson grimaced, before forcing a smile to his face.

 

"Hello, I was wondering if Chuck is there.  I have something important to talk to her about."  He said frowning.

 

"Charlotte's here."  She told him, an edge to her voice.  "Hold on, I'll get her."

 

Emerson rolled his eyes again, waiting as he listened to Lily grumble loudly to the rest of the room that Charlotte was wanted on the phone.

 

"Hi."  Came Chuck's voice, and Emerson shook his head at the fact that she didn't even ask to see who was on the line.

 

He gave her a quick rundown on what happened.

 

"Wait... a black Charger?"  Chuck repeated, a thought occurring to her.

 

She sorely hoped she was wrong though.  "How many doors did it have?"

 

"Seriously?  A couple of guys kidnap Olive, and you're worrying about what they drove?"  Emerson exclaimed in disbelief.

 

He could almost hear her shake her head.

 

Emerson never got why Chuck shook her head when on the phone.

 

"Just tell me how many doors, 'cause I think I actually know who it is."  Chuck told him shortly.

 

Something was up and if it was what she thought it was, Olive could be in some very deep trouble.

 

Emerson thought for a second.

 

"I don't know, four, I think."  He answered, and Chuck quickly gave him a license plate number.

 

"How the hell do you know who it is?"  He demanded, and Chuck closed her eyes for a moment.

 

Everyone wanted her to explain everything, but there just wasn't enough time, especially now.

 

"Just... go with me on this, alright?  I'll explain it all afterwards," if they were still alive afterwards, "but in the meantime, meet me on the corner in front of the Pie-Hole."

 

She said goodbye and turned to her aunts.

 

"I need a lift back to the pie shop."  She told them, Aunt Vivian already wringing her hands.

 

Lily grabbed her keys as Vivian begged off, saying that she would just slow them down.  "I'm not really one for adventures..."

 

Lily made a disgusted noise and rolled her eye as she fitted a new eye-patch on.

 

She turned to Chuck.  "Let's go."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"EEEEEEEEEEE!"  Olive shrilled, kicking the back of the seat in time to Sam's throbbing headache.

 

Dean clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles bright white as he stared angerly at the road ahead of him.

 

"EEEEEEEEEEE!"Olive continued to squeal.

 

Sam whipped around so that he was staring her in the face.

 

"Dude!  I know you're a freaking demon, but how the hell are you able to do that for hours?"  He asked, shaking his head.  "Shut up!"

 

Dean rolled his eyes.

 

"You really think that's going to work?"  He asked, a sharp edge in his voice.  "She hasn't shut up for the past two hours, and suddenly, because you told her to, she's going to settle down?  Don't think so, Sammy."

 

Sam turned to him.

 

"Just tell me why we're not doing something about her."  He said, shrugging.  "Normally you'd be all for 'ganking' her where she stood."

 

Dean cleared his throat.

 

"I don't know, man...  Something tells me we're going to need to keep this one alive a bit longer."  He admitted, though he himself wasn't certain why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It turned out that Lebanon, Kansas had a cat cafe, and Mohini, who had never even heard the concept before, was baffled by the whole deal.

 

Staring wide-eyed around the room dedicated to the worship of felines, she pulled Ned in after her, her rings glinting in the stark florescent light.

 

"Wh-what's going on?"  He asked groggily, his mind feeling uncomfortably full and rather fuzzy.

 

He glanced around, taking in his new surroundings, squinting curiously.

 

His nose began to itch a little bit, having a very mild allergy to felines.

 

"Nothing much, Darling, we're just going to have a cuppa with the king of hell."  She paused in her steps.

 

"Oh, speak of the devil."  She murmured, looking over at Crowley, who was surrounded by very nearly all the cats in the cafe.

 

Some of them were fighting to get as close as possible to the demon, while a very proud, young black cat with shaggy hair sat in his lap, its eyes half closed as Crowley stroked its head.

 

Ned swallowed hard.

 

Things were getting weirder and more frightening by the minute.

 

"You're joking, right?"  He asked, trying to play off his fear, but not doing a very good job of it.

 

Mohini looked at him, frowning, a little crease between her brows making itself known.

 

"Why would I joke?"  She touched the small of his back, ushering him forward.

 

"Sit, sit, sit."  She urged.

 

Ned wondered what he could do, other than obey.

 

Surely, resisting would do him little good in his current situation.

 

He felt just how powerful she was during the time she had possessed his body.

 

"I just...  Can I go use the washroom?"  He asked her, thinking that maybe he'd be able to borrow someone's phone and call for help.

 

The Winchesters seemed to know a fair bit about all this evil mumbo-jumbo, and besides, they had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

 

Mohini gave him a crocodile smile.

 

"Hold it."  She advised, making the introductions.

 

As Ned shifted uncomfortably on the spot, feigning the desperate urge to empty his bladder, Crowley ducked his head in acknowledgement, never stopping the repetitive motion of petting his favourite cat.

 

"I must say I'm surprised that you're taking this all so well."  He grinned.  "But then again, I suppose it is in your blood, isn't?"

 

Ned frowned.

 

At this point, what good were pleasantries?

 

"You?  You're the so-called 'King of Hell'? ...  You're just a chubby, middle-aged man with a receding hairline.  Why should I fear you, exactly?"  He asked in pure annoyance.

 

He'd had enough.

 

Crowley looked vaguely amused.  "Fear me?"  He said in mock surprise, touching his hand to his chest.

 

"Who said you should fear me?  I just thought it would be interesting if a Goddess, a demon and a necromancer just happened to sit down for a little tete a tete, that's all."

 

Mohini pulled Ned into the seat next to her, carefully crossing her legs under her sheer skirt.

 

Ned shot her a look.  "Okay, you need to stop touching me."

 

He glanced over to Crowley, his thick brows knitting together. "What is it that you want, anyway?"

 

Crowley shrugged, resuming running his hand over the silky cat.

 

The cat purred loudly at this.

 

At that moment, Crowley decided he was going to keep the cat and call it ‘Steve’.

 

He sighed.

 

"Oh, dear Ned.  Couldn't we talk shop after getting to know each other a little better?"

 

Ned considered the words for a moment.

 

This guy's gentlemanly demeanour wasn't going to fool him for a second.

 

"I have no interest in getting to know either of you; whatever you have planned, I don't intend to be willing participant."  Ned replied sternly, gathering all of his nerve.

 

He wasn't going to go down without a fight.

 

Mohini raised her arm and snapped her fingers at a passing waitress, before rubbing Ned's shoulder in what may have been meant to be a comforting manner, but seemed more suggestive than anything else.

 

Ned shoved her hand away roughly.

 

"I did ask you not to touch me; please don't do it again."  He said, his tone a little deeper than before in his aggravation.

 

Mohini smiled at him.

 

"You're more attractive when you're not a pushover."  She told him, before turning her attention to Crowley.

 

"I am afraid that all you demons are alike, especially in the way that you're always out for the 'big sell'. 

 

What do you want?"

 

Ned glared at the demon.

 

"That's exactly what I'd like to know."  He spat, crossing his arms.

 

Mohini looked at him.

 

"Don't overdo it, tiger."  She told him.

 

Crowley, who had never appreciated being rushed, took a deep breath, reminding himself to remain cordial as he didn't want his meatsuit to become crispy fried.

 

"Well, seeing as how you two are so eager..."

 

He picked up the kitten, holding it close to his chest, and the feline tipped its head back for a nose touch, which Crowley obliged.

 

"Ned, tell me about your life.  What's it like, eternally hiding from the rest of the world, fearing for your very life, day in, day out?"  He asked, giving the cat a noogie.

 

In retrospect, perhaps the cat cafe wasn't the best choice as they were so distracting.

 

Ned blinked.  "Uh, well...  It's not so bad.  I've got people who love me, a decent business, and I get to help people."  He answered, a little caught off-guard.

 

Crowley nodded.

 

"How many people, Ned?  And how many of them are with you because of your 'talent'?"  He pressed gently.

 

"Enough."  Ned replied curtly.  "And, for your information, I actually have people in my life who care about me for who I am."

 

Crowley raised his eyebrows and looked genuinely pleased.

 

"That's nice.  We all need someone to love us."  He said, thinking for the briefest moment of something other than the job.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

"But it must be difficult to never be able to even hold hands with your girlfriend.  Am I right?"

 

"Naturally, but we've adapted nicely."  Ned replied.  "You aren't going to be able to change my mind

about how good my life really is.  I know how lucky I am."

 

‘Gotcha’, Crowley thought to himself.

 

"Who said I was trying to change your mind about anything, least of all your life?"  He asked innocently.

 

Ned scoffed.

 

"With those questions?  I'm not a complete idiot."  He retorted, momentarily distracted by the now loudly purring cat, which was now staring creepily at him.

 

Crowley traced a shape in the condensation on the table left by his cup of tea.

 

"No, I'm not trying to change your view on how your life stands as it is."

 

He tipped his head back slightly, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

 

"You've," he pointed at Ned, "done the best with what you're given.  Heck, better than most people in your situation."

 

He shrugged again.

 

"No, I was just thinking that what if... it was better?  Easier?  Think for a moment."

 

Ned instantly felt suspicion arise in his mind.

 

He knew that whatever this guy claimed he could do for him, that it wouldn't be worth accepting.

 

"Why?"  Ned asked, keeping his tone neutral as he shifted in his seat to get a touch more comfortable.

 

Crowley set the kitten on the table and wiped the hair from his hands onto his pants, before the cat jumped back into his lap, purring almost aggressively.

 

"When you bring them back, you pull my souls from the pit."  Crowley told him.  "Sometimes my little helpers ride that soul back here.  I don't appreciate either."

 

Ned cleared his throat.

 

"I can't say that I was aware of that.  It was never my intention to cause anyone aggravation."  He responded with just a hint of an apologetic tone.

 

Maybe if he promised to stop doing what he'd been doing, then he would get out of this alive.

 

Crowley nodded pleasantly.

 

"I can understand that, it's just I hope you can see how that's bad for business."  He said, blowing a hair out of his mouth.

 

Damn cat hair.

 

Ned nodded. "Yes, I can definitely see how that would be a hindrance.  If that's the problem, I can stop."  Ned assured him.

 

"In which case, am I free to go?"

 

Crowley winced, gesturing for Ned to remain seated.

 

"I wish it was that simple, but... Why do I get the feeling that if you could just stop, you would have long ago done so?"

 

Crowley knew that Ned had tried countless times to stop being what he was, but it never worked.

 

"I can."  Ned told him stubbornly.  "I will.  If you'll let me go back to my normal life."

 

The demon leaned in and hissed, "But what if you can't?  What if you keep finding yourself around more and more corpses, Ned?  What if one day Chuck falls and you can't get out of the way this time?"

 

He looked hard at Ned before leaning back, soothing the cat.

 

Ned bit his lip.

 

"As I said, I can stop.  We can do this all day, and my answer will remain the same."  He said confidently.

 

"And, there will never come a day when I can't get out of the way fast enough.  Not when it comes to Chuck."

 

Crowley smiled a touch cruelly.

 

"You can lie all you want to me, but I do know that you aren't quiet that self-deluded yet to be able to lie to yourself about her safety."  He stated, gesturing between them.

 

Ned sighed.

 

"Look, can we just get down to what you want?"  He asked tiredly.

 

Crowley glanced at Mohini, who was examining her nails in a bored fashion.

 

"What I want is to turn off that little switch in you that makes you raise the dead."  He said, lifting a hand.

 

"That simple.  No soul, no first born, no kiss. "Ned raised his eyebrows at this last bit.

 

He wasn't sure what kissing had to do with anything, and the demon seemed to read this on his face.

 

Crowley dug out his phone and showed the picture of him and Bobby smooching.

 

Ned frowned, unsure of what to make of this new development.

 

He cleared his throat, looking away from the phone.

 

"Uh... Right, well, how do you propose to do that?  Where would the power go?"  He asked, a little curious.

 

Crowley waved his hand through the air, Mohini watching the thick digits wiggle.

 

"It would just go out into the world, never manifesting again."  He answered, before looking puzzled.  "Why?"

 

"Curiosity."  Ned replied vaguely.  "And, anyways, you're a demon, supposedly.  Why should I trust you with anything, let alone something like this?"

 

"Because what have I really asked of you?"  Crowley returned.  "What, besides less of a headache, am I getting out of making your life better?"

 

Ned raised his eyebrows.  "Exactly."  He stated.  "Why would you do something like that for me, when you'd be getting virtually nothing in return?  Doesn't make sense."

 

Crowley sighed.

 

"Have you ever tried to hunt down errant souls?"  He asked.  "Souls that somebody unconsciously pulls every few moments, it seems?  Pain in the ass.  I just want you to stop doing it so I can finish watching The Maltese Falcon."

 

Ned wasn't sure what to make of all this.

 

"Do you mind if I make a phone call before making any sort of decision?"  He inquired mildly.

 

"Kind of do."  Crowley answered, steepling his fingers around the cat in his lap.

 

"I don't have all day to chitchat.  I'll give you one minute to think on your own, then," he shrugged, "if you're not willing to help work this out with me, I guess I'll just have to find a way to work around you."

 

Ned thought furiously.

 

Maybe he could reach that angel, if he thought hard enough.

 

Ned focused on sending out a message, though it didn't seem to be working.

 

Mohini turned to him, her index pressed lightly against her lips.

 

"Sh."  She breathed.

 

Ned licked his lips.

 

"What will you do if I don't cooperate with you?"  He asked.

 

Crowley tipped his head to the side.

 

"Like I said, I'll work around you."

 

He took a deep breath.

 

"I'll find a way to fix things.  Don't worry, either way, I won't hurt you."

 

Not really, he thought to himself.

 

Ned sighed.

 

What Crowley had said seemed to make sense, though he knew that he shouldn't be thinking about giving in.

 

But, he'd been miserable for so long.

 

Too long.

 

Nearly his entire life, in fact.

 

He didn't really want to continue on living this way if he didn't have to; maybe it was worth a try.

 

"Fine."  Ned said simply, staring him boldly in the eyes and pushing down his doubts.

 

"Do it.  Do whatever you need to do."

 

Crowley stood up, stuffing the kitten into his jacket before jerking his head in the direction of the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Lily drove the car, she was silent.

 

She wasn’t fully certain of what was going on, but knew that whatever it was, that she would be there for her daughter.

 

"Are you going to tell me a bit more about all...  This?"  She asked gently, rounding a corner.

 

Chuck breathed in as deeply as she could.

 

"Well, this one I don't have much of an idea of what... what it's all about."  She admitted.  "I think I told you everything I knew about it, Aunt Lily."

 

Lily nodded.

 

"Okay."  She said, wondering just what they were getting into.

 

Suddenly, her stomach rumbled loudly.

 

"Do we have time to make a quick stop?"  She asked Charlotte.

 

Chuck wasn't sure, but she figured ten minutes probably wouldn't make too great a difference.

 

She just hoped that the Winchesters were going back to the bunker.

 

She had a rough idea of where it was, thanks to Emerson running the plates.

 

She really hoped that she'd be able to recognize it from the outside.

 

Lily spotted a hotdog vendor up the street, parked the car beside the uniformed woman, and ordered a preposterous amount of food after getting out of the car.

 

Once she had her meal in tow, she shooed Charlotte into the driver's seat.

 

"You know where we're going, anyway."  Lily said, getting in.

 

"You hungry?"  She asked, offering Charlotte a hotdog and some fries.

 

"No thanks, I don't like to eat and drive."  Chuck told her.

 

Besides, she was too nervous to really eat right then.

 

She was starting to really worry about Ned.

 

Not nearly as much as she was worrying about Olive, but it was getting up there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a trip that seemed far longer than it had been, the Impala rolled into the garage.

 

Dean looked worn out, as he shut off the engine and got out of the car.

 

He stretched, his shirt riding up a bit and exposing a strip of his lower abdomen.

 

"Man-flesh!"  Olive growled, making Dean's eyes bulge.

 

"Okay, then."  He said, raising an eyebrow.

 

"You want to deal with pint-size, or shall I?"  Dean asked his brother.

 

Sam gave him a pained look.

 

"Can't we just leave her in the car for now?"  He practically begged.

 

His headache was so bad now, that it was actually screwing with his vision.

 

The corners of Dean's mouth turned down, and he nodded.

 

"Sure.  You can pop her in the trunk."  He said in agreeance.

 

Sam sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

 

A thought struck him.

 

"Play you for it."  He said, holding out his fist over the roof of the car.

 

Dean shrugged, and showed Sam a closed fist.

 

Their fists pumped up and down three times before showing what they picked.

 

"Dude, you got to stop always choosing scissors."  Sam smiled, walking away from the car.

 

"Shut up."  Dean told him, picking up the obnoxious little blonde and placing her writhing form into the

trunk, before heading into the main house with his little brother.

 

"Hey, Kev!"  Sam called out, looking around the areas that Kevin usually frequented.

 

No reply came.

 

Sam sought out Dean, telling him that he couldn't find their friend.

 

"You don't think- wait, have you seen Ned around, you know, anywhere?"  He asked, panic starting to rise.

 

Dean pursed his lips.

 

"No... "  He responded.  "Okay, you take the top floors; I've got the main and dungeon."

 

With that, Dean set out searching for anyone.

 

He spotted nothing out of the ordinary, nor anyone, on the main floor.

 

After heading to the basement, he began searching again.

 

It was a few minutes before he spotted Kevin lying on the cold, stone floor, inside a devil's trap.

 

"Kevin!"  Dean practically shouted.  "Kev!"  Dean rushed over to him, fearing the worst.

 

If anything happened to Kevin, it was all on him.

 

He leaned over the boy, checking for a pulse.

 

Dean's fingers detected a steady rhythm.

 

Dean closed his eyes in relief, before picking up the unconscious form and bringing him upstairs.

 

Kevin was colder than he should be, and his pulse was a bit slower than it ought to be.

 

Dean set him down on a soft couch, calling for Sam.

 

Sam jogged down the stair, nearly tripping himself when his one foot slipped off the edge of the step.

 

"Dean?"  He called out, trying to get a rough idea where he was.

 

"Yeah, in here.  I found Kevin."  He shouted back, his voice gruff.

 

Sam peeked around the door-frame and saw Dean kneeling beside the couch that Kevin was laying on.

 

"Is he...?"  Sam trailed off, unable to finish, pushing away the much too painful concept of Kevin dying.

 

Dean shook his head.  "No, he's alive."  He answered.  "Cold, and his pulse is a little off, but otherwise... 

I don't know yet, man."

 

Sam could see the worry in Dean's face.

 

He leaned over Kevin, who looked all right, just worn.

 

  1.   A thought occurred to him.



 

"Dean, check his hands for marks."  He ordered, unpinning Kevin's left arm and holding it up.

 

Dean scanned both hands, finding a smokey-grey pattern that was raised like a welt covering the entire flat of Kevin's right hand.

 

Dean's thoughts swirled, and he realised what the pattern very likely meant.

 

"Son-of-a-bitch!"  Dean growled, getting to his feet and looking livid.  "Great, so where is she, then?  Did you find anything at all, Sam?"

 

Sam, who was examining Mohini's brand on Kevin's hand, looked up.

 

"No."  He said, shaking his head.  "She must have just jumped Kev, then strolled out of here with the necromancer."

 

He swallowed, checking himself so that he didn't blow up at Dean.

 

He'd known that this was a bad idea, but none of them listened to him.

 

"Yeah, that's what I'd figured, too."  Dean agreed, crossing his arms and blowing out a breath.

 

Sam unconsciously smoothed Kevin's hair.

 

"So, now what?"  He asked, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.  "You think you can get Cas on the line?"

 

He frowned and glanced around the room.

 

"Where is he, anyway?"

 

Dean considered this.

 

"That's a damn good question."  Dean muttered.  "I'll give it a shot.  It's pretty much all we can do right now, anyway."

 

Dean closed his eyes, concentrating entirely on reaching Castiel.

 

After a few minutes, the angel appeared, looking drawn.

 

"Yes, Dean?"  He asked in his deep voice, squinting slightly at him, having become weary from the difficult tasks that he'd taken on.

 

"Mohini's gone.  She's AWOL, along with your precious necromancer.  And, she decided to try out Kevin, while she was at it."

 

Castiel blinked.

 

"That is unexpected."  He stated simply.

 

Sam scoffed.

 

"Yeah, tell me about it."  He muttered, crossing his arms and sniffing.

 

"I have done all I can."  Castiel told Sam, trying and failing to pinpoint Mohini's location.

 

"There is nothing to be done, locating her is beyond me.  I am sorry."

 

Dean's jaw set and he said nothing. It looked as though Mohini had really screwed them over, and that could mean the end of everything. Maybe Sam had been right, maybe they should have gone with another plan.

 

Castiel's face softened a touch.  "Dean..."  He tried, but Dean just walked away from him, aggravated with the situation.

 

Sam's head perked up.

 

"Wait, what about Ned?"  He asked, taking a step towards Castiel.

 

"Can you find him?  There's got to be some part of him that's accessible yet."

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

"I am afraid that is impossible; Mohini must be shielding him from detection, though I do not understand why."  He answered regretfully.

 

"All will become clear."  A voice behind Castiel told him.

 

The angel turned around to see Mohini.

 

"What have you done with the necromancer?"  He demanded.

 

Sam frowned.

 

"What?  I didn't do anything."  He answered.  "He was gone when we showed up."

 

Castiel frowned at Sam.

 

"I was not speaking to you, but to Mohini."  He gestured towards her.

 

Sam looked confused as Mohini rested her hand on Castiel's shoulder, turning him to face her again.

 

"He can't hear, see or smell me, my little angelic friend.  I am here only for you."  She smiled slowly. 

 

"Answer me."  He told her firmly, looking deeply into her warm cinnamon-coloured eyes.

 

Mohini gently kissed him on the cheek.

 

"I promised you then and I promise you now; no harm will befall him."

 

She put her hand over her heart.

 

"I never lie.  Or, well, not usually.  I mean, I am deception, you know."

 

"Do you realise who is after that man?  You are powerful, there is no doubt about that, but are you powerful enough to defend both yourself and the necromancer from that variety of harm?  You may have overestimated yourself this once, Mohini."  He warned her, knowing that there were many who wanted to be in possession of Ned.

 

Mohini put her hands behind her back.

 

"We'll see."  She told him, walking around him in a slow circle, before detouring and doing the same to Sam, who still couldn't see her.

 

"All will become clear."  She repeated.

 

She looked at Castiel, marching over to him.

 

"But, if you want to see the fireworks, come to me at midnight."

 

She rested her palm against his forehead, before disappearing in a puff of red smoke.

 

With Mohini's touch, Castiel fell deep into unconsciousness, which lasted for many hours.

 

Dean had moved him onto a bed in one of the various spare rooms, even more stressed.

 

That was two of his very close friends down, and it was worrisome.

 

There was a ringing sound, and Sam pulled his head up, abandoning his book for a moment.

 

"What's that?"  He asked Dean, frowning.

 

"I'm...  Not sure."  Dean replied curiously, listening intently for the sound again, his head cocked to the side.

 

It sounded again, and Sam got to his feet, frowning in confusion.

 

"What... Y'know, it almost sounds-"

 

He made a face and rolled his eyes.

 

"It sounds like a doorbell!"

 

Dean made a face.

 

"Yeah, Sammy, the men of letters bunker, a place that looks like some abandoned factory, is going to have a doorbell."  He said sarcastically, before deciding to check the front door anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as the door was open, Chuck leaned to the side, her eyes wide as she wiggled her fingers in greeting.

 

"Hi!  I came back to check on Ned."  She gestured to Aunt Lily, introducing her as just that.

 

Dean frowned.

 

"How did you find us, exactly?"  He asked, crossing his arms and feeling mildly exposed.

 

Chuck clasped her hands in front of her and shrugged.

 

"Oh, it wasn't too hard really."  She admitted.  "I simply had the Impala's plate run, had the basic area of frequent sightings of Cliff Simmons' car, and," she shrugged again, "went from there, I guess."

 

"That's actually not bad work."  He said, a hint of sulkiness in his tone.  "Come on in."

 

"We have a doorbell."  Dean announced as he strolled into the den, Chuck and Lily behind him.

 

Chuck waved at Kevin, giving him a reassuring smile, thinking that he looked really sick.

 

He was barely awake, and still very foggy.

 

He hadn't uttered a word, being too weak as he lay exactly as he'd been placed on the couch.

 

Sam looked questioningly at Lily, before frowning deeply at Chuck.

 

"How did you get here?"  He asked, a touch suspiciously, moving away from the table.

 

Dean quickly reiterated the story, as Lily looked around at her surroundings.

 

It seemed like far too extravagant a place for a couple of young men like these two.

 

It seemed suspicious.

 

She looked directly at Sam, and asked what it was that they did for work.

 

Sam swallowed and crossed his arms.

 

"Well?"  She prompted.

 

Sam tilted his head slightly, wondering what Chuck had told Lily.

 

"FBI."  He tried, seeing as that was what they had said originally.

 

Lily nodded, a low chuckle escaping her.

 

"Right, and I am Samuel L. Jackson."  She said with a shake of her head.  "Now, how about the truth?"

 

Sam's eyes narrowed for a moment, and he cut a glance to Dean.

 

Dean shrugged, giving him an 'I don't know' glance, before acting nonchalant.

 

Sam smiled.

 

"Well, if we're not feds, who do you think we are?"  He asked, returning the vocal push.

 

Lily took a few steps toward him, staring at him unblinkingly.

 

"Oh, I know what you are.  I want to see if you have the cajones to tell me yourself."  She told them,

bold as can be.

 

Sam raised his eyebrows.

 

"You do?"  He asked doubtfully.

 

"Oh, please.  Charlotte told me everything.  I'm not an idiot."  Lily responded.

 

Dean smiled.

 

"I like Cyclops, here."  He said, before realising this probably wasn't the best idea.

 

Lily swivelled her head around swiftly, staring him down.

 

"I'm sorry."  He told her, the woman's gaze unnerving him as even some of the more deadly creatures he'd run across had not.

 

"Damn right you are, don't let it happen again."  Lily said in an almost threatening tone, pointing at his chest.

 

Dean swallowed, nodding.

 

"Good."  Lily stated, turning back to Sam, who was hissing at Chuck, "You told her everything?!" Chuck looked sheepish.

 

"I didn't think anyone would believe me."  She answered, toying with her hands.

 

Dean's expression changed.

 

"Yeah, but there's only one way she would've believed all that."  He said musingly.

 

Lily looked over to him.

 

"Who was it?"  He asked her a little more softly than before.

 

Lily looked over to him, a sombre expression on her face, as she told him all about Charlotte's father.

 

He'd been a skilled hunter, often away for months at a time for work.

 

He had taught her all sorts of supernatural things, and she'd even protected her from a number of dangerous creatures throughout the years.

 

Nobody seemed to realise it, but Coeur D' Coeur’s was really a treacherous place to live.

 

Too many people died from suspicious causes, and nobody seemed to question it at all.

 

In fact, in the summer, it was quite the tourist spot.

 

Chuck was absolutely stunned.

 

Not even when Charles Charles had come back from the dead did he tell her any of this.

 

"I'm sorry, Charlotte, but it's time you knew the truth."  Lily said to her, touching the girl's hair.  "I won't keep any more secrets from my little girl."

 

Chuck pulled away unhappily.

 

"What truth?"  She demanded, taking a few steps away.

 

"So far, everything I've ever known is a lie, even my own father was a lie."  She pointed out.

 

"Lies told to keep you happy and safe."  Lily told her quietly, trying not to cry.  "Your father was a hunter.  Like these two boys here, but probably better.  And...  Well, I'm your mother.  It's time you knew."

 

Chuck didn't mention that she already knew that Lily was her mother, figuring that it was beside the point right now.

 

"Keep me safe?  Is that why the three of us were always inside, locked away from the rest of the world?"  She shot at Lily, crossing her arms.

 

"Is that why I wasn't allowed to have friends, and whenever I had the slightest inkling to be independent, you smothered me with those tales of little girls having horrible things done to them, before you shoved yet another book in my hands?"

 

Lily blinked.

 

"Yes."  She answered, her heart breaking.  "I tried my best, though I know it wasn't good enough. I've always known that."

 

Chuck wasn't having any of this.

 

"What you did, was make me a prisoner, Mother."  She stated truthfully.

 

"When I left, I had no idea what to expect from people.  Maybe that's why I died, because I didn't know that I was stepping in on part of a scam.  I just knew I was getting a chance at life."

 

Lily knew that these words were all true.

 

"I never meant to hurt you.  I'm so sorry that I made so many mistakes...  I should have been smarter than that.  You deserved better."  She said, feeling like giving up on everything right then and there.

 

Chuck looked a bit ashamed of her outburst, knowing that Lily had just been trying to protect her, but really, it had backfired terribly.

 

"You're right, I know."  Lily told her softly, before turning back to Sam.

 

"Now, what's the plan?"

 

The brothers seemed to be feeling pretty uncomfortable with what had just happened, and were thrilled at the prospect of a change in topic.

 

"Well, Cas had contact with Mohini right before he passed out, and seeing as how he's the only one who knows how to seek her out, we just have to wait for him to wake up."  Sam told them, disliking the fact that they were so useless right then.

 

He wished that Dean and Castiel had listened to him and tried a different way of dealing with this whole problem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was nearly midnight when Castiel finally awoke, seemingly unaware of the passage of time that had elapsed.

 

Chuck leaned towards him, her hands clasped behind her back.

 

"I didn't know angels slept."  She remarked thoughtfully.

 

"Do you dream, or is it just lights out?"

 

Castiel stood up.

 

"We do not sleep.  Not usually."  He told her, looking as though he were concentrating very hard on something.

 

"And, yes, we do dream when we rarely experience slumber.  But, that is not of import.  What time is it?"

 

Sam glanced at his watch.

 

"Eleven fifty-six."  He told him, dropping his arm.

 

"Time is of the essence."  He told them.  "Mohini will summon me at midnight for an unknown reason, though I strongly suspect that it involves the necromancer.  I will try to reach you,” He gestured to the brothers, “and do my best to convey you to her location."

 

Crossing her arms, Chuck stepped forward.

 

"I'm coming with you.  Ned is in a lot of trouble, and I'm not leaving him to fend for himself, really."

 

"You have no choice."  Castiel stated.  "Realistically, you are not the sort person to fight against this kind of power, and would only be a burden in such a battle."

 

Dean nodded.

 

"He's right; we're going to be too busy to worry about protecting your ass."  He agreed.

 

"I know how to use a shotgun, an array of handguns and know three different types of martial arts." Chuck countered, not relenting.  "Anything else I need, well, I'm a quick learner."

 

Dean gave her a mildly sympathetic look.

 

"Not quick enough for something like this."  He said decisively.

 

She turned to Sam.

 

"What would you do, if someone you loved was in a life and death situation?"  She asked, unwittingly hitting too close to home.

 

"Wouldn't you want to try to do your best and save them?  Or would you sit on your hands, stewing on the thought that you could have been there, helping?"

 

Sam opened his mouth helplessly.

 

"... That's.... I've been training for this kind of thing my whole life."  He stated, shaking his head.

 

"Chuck, regardless of what you know, it's fairly useless in this sort of situation."

 

He felt like such a hypocrite, but he knew that she would be safer here than wherever Ned probably was, and he didn't need another death on his conscience.

 

Just as Sam finished speaking, Castiel disappeared.

 

Kevin, who was fast asleep, let out a particularly raucous snore, startling Lily.

 

"I guess we're all out of the loop."  Chuck said softly.

 

Dean cleared his throat.

 

"Don't worry; I'm sure we can get your boyfriend back for you."  He said, though he didn't fully believe it himself.

 

He gave her a small, thin-lipped smile.

 

"You do realise that I'm not a small child to be pacified, right?"  Chuck asked, beginning to pace.

 

"Hey, it's been known to happen that the people we know get out alive."  Sam quipped, ignoring the rock in the pit of his stomach.

 

Dean nodded.

 

"It's true, sometimes we do actually help people, you know."  He said, telling from the subtle signs that Sam could be doing better.

 

As usual.

 

Chuck sniffed and nodded.

 

"Yeah, I got to be positive."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The graveyard was still and silent.

 

Careful to not touch the scorched marks on the ground, nor to come within Ned's reach where he was manacled, Mohini eyed Crowley, who was busy setting jars of dead demons in specific places in the wards.

 

Ned watched this in horror and vague interest, trying desperately to find a method of escape available to him.

 

So far, there was nothing.

 

Besides, he knew that one, if not both, of those creatures could read his mind.

 

He knew he ought to give up, but he just wouldn't.

 

Mohini glanced at Ned in a disinterested manner.

 

"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt him."  She said to Crowley, who shrugged, straightening.

 

"Well, no more than absolutely necessary, and so far I haven't."

 

He faced Ned.  "You're not hurt, are you?  I mean other than mentally.  Jeez, these mortals... everything scars them for life."

 

Ned glared at him seethingly, anger rising up in him, refusing to say anything to the wretch.

 

Crowley shrugged.

 

"See?  He's fine."  He waved his empty hand dismissively.

 

Mohini circled the symbols again.

 

"And you will let him go free afterwards?"  She inquired, her arms crossed over her chest.

 

Crowley stood up with a jerk, sighing unhappily.

 

"I said I wasn't going to kill him, that he was going to go home sans the ability to wake the dead.  I just need him to act as a megaphone before I set the little twerp free."  He all but snapped, reminding himself yet again to not piss her off.

 

Castiel, who had appeared there a few minutes ago and had kept himself concealed, stepped out of the shadows.

 

"I cannot allow you to do that."  He told Crowley, keeping his distance but moving closer to the manacled human.

 

Mohini raised her hand, freezing him in place, before lowering her index to her mouth, breathing out a "sh."

 

He watched helplessly, stuck in a rather uncomfortable pose, as he tried desperately to summon the Winchesters.

 

He had no idea whether it would work, though he would still try.

 

Crowley glanced between Goddess and angel.

 

"I see you have a new pet."  He commented, and Mohini smiled slightly, letting Crowley go back to his task, before sidling up to Castiel.

 

"What are the symbols?"  She asked under her breath.

 

Castiel glanced at them, easily reading them.

 

He thought the translation to her.  'For the death of one be given all, so the reverse be true'.

 

Mohini nodded.

 

"Well, fuck."  She said flatly, putting her hands on her hips.

 

Castiel silently admonished her for her language, before going back to working on conveying the brothers the current scene before him.

 

Crowley, though, was already started, his hands on Ned's forehead and heart.

 

The Earth shook so hard, that the trees crashed around, tombstones toppled, and the humans were thrown from their feet.

 

Poisonous green energy pulsed up from the ground, circling the jars before smashing them, revitalizing the dead until hideous black clouds billowed forth from the wreckage.

 

"Finally."  Crowley breathed, holding up his hands like a cheap magician.

 

He looked over at the toppled brothers, smirking.

 

"Oh, look, if it isn't team daddy issues.  You know what that was?  That was every, single demon who happened to ever have died."  He looked up.  "'And for every life taken, one of equal worth shall replace it.'  Do you suppose that that would mean in the whole war, angels and demons are, in fact, equal?"

 

Dean's eyes widened.

 

"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch."  He muttered in a growl, realising how deep they were in it this time.

 

Crowley put his hands behind him and started to pace.

 

"You really need to get a new catchphrase, Squirrel."  He remarked, glancing at Ned.  "How much more time do they have?  Have you been counting, or would you really rather not know how long until it all ends?"

 

Dean shifted his gaze to Mohini.

 

"Stop this." He told her, thinking that she might just be able to rival Crowley's power.  "Stop this now."

 

Mohini was about to respond when the skies opened up, showing blood-red flames leaping about the clouds.

 

She frowned heavily.

 

"This... this wasn't what I intended."  She said to herself.

 

"Well, it's a little too late for second thoughts, babe."  Crowley said, looking up at the sky, as if was only starting to snow.

 

Mohini raised an eyebrow, before lifting her hand, levelling her palm at Ned.

 

In a split second, Ned was obliterated.

 

"You bitch!"  Dean shouted at her angrily, thinking that there was no chance of surviving this now.

 

Not with both of them working together.

 

Mohini turned and made eye-contact with Castiel, who was now able to move freely, stalked to her side.

 

He was more or less awaiting her orders, prepared to abide by them.

 

She smiled, her arms lifting above her head, slowly undulating as she strolled around the symbols, the black miasma starting to encircle her.

 

Mohini flung out her hands, and a grey light shot out from her centre, slicing through everything in its path.

 

She turned her face upward and the sky looked no more spectacular than it had five minutes ago.

 

She took a deep breath.

 

"Good enough?"  She asked Castiel, rubbing a bit of soot from her cheek.

 

"Except that the demons are still alive, yes."  He replied, feeling the evil radiating off of them profoundly.

 

"Oh my gosh!  You're so picky!"  She complained, before devouring the demons whole.  "There.  Happy now?"

 

"Thank you."  He told her, looking up at her almost gratefully.

 

Without Mohini, the entire earth would surely have perished.

 

Mohini waved her hand at him, stalking over to Crowley, who was looking royally pissed off.

 

"Run, little man."  She advised, leaning in so that their noses nearly touched.

 

Crowley narrowed his eyes, before smiling and taking a step back.

 

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying."  He told her, watching her brows arch.

 

"For this, I can."  She replied, her hand turning to fire as she reached for him.

 

He was gone before she had half-way extended her arm.

 

Dean walked over, still thinking about the sight of Ned exploding like fireworks a few minutes ago.

 

"So, did you really have to kill him, or were you just having fun?"  He asked, his jaw set.

 

Sure, he was happy that it was over, but he didn't like the situation that much.

 

"Yes."  She answered, watching Sam stagger to his feet, looking very battered.

 

"Are you alright?"  She asked Sam, who flipped her off, unable to really say anything just then.

 

Mohini shook her head, turning back to Dean.

 

"It always causes problems if you have two people with the same identity walking around."  She smiled beatifically at him.

 

"Your friend is alive and well.  Be happy.  The worst that happened is that Ned lost his little toe, and sincerely doubt that it will be missed."

 

 

 

 

After conversing with Crowley, Mohini decided not to trust him at all.

 

She had taken Ned to her temple and put him in a very deep sleep before painlessly removing his toe.

 

The toe was needed to make a replica, and Ned's consciousness was needed to move the replica.

 

To Ned, it appeared that it was his own body, that everything that happened to the replica, was what was really happening to him.

 

Out of all the things that happened, the only real thing was the demons rising.

 

The rest was merely an illusion that Mohini had cast to see what would have been if she had accepted Crowley's unseemly offer.

 

Back at the bunker, she explained all this, and apologised for Ned's missing digit.

 

"But why couldn't you just stay here?"  Sam asked, his head aching.

 

Mohini shrugged.

 

"I was bored, and he wouldn't do anything with me."

 

She pointed at Kevin, who looked severely hung-over.

 

"Hey, I wasn't interested then, I'm not interested now.  That's just the way it is."  He shrugged, feeling a bit badgered.

 

Mohini leaned towards him.

 

"You're boring.  No wonder you never got a girlfriend."  She shot at him, sticking her tongue out.

 

"I'm not that into dating."  He replied shortly, crossing his arms.

 

Mohini raised her hands and shook her head, pretending to not hear him.

 

She looked at Ned.

 

"Oh, by the way, you two can touch now."  She pointed at him and Chuck.  "You aren't a necromancer any more, but your kids might be."

 

Mohini sighed, looking around.

 

"I thought a snooze would make you look less tired."  She said, shaking her head at Castiel.

 

"But you still look like you haven't slept in forty years."

 

She pointed at Sam.  "Try relaxing some mo-."  She stopped in her tracks, a line coming up between her brows.

 

"Why don't you two come with me?"  She asked the brothers.

 

"You've had a rough time of it, so why don't you live with me?  Anything you want, anything you desire, it'll be at your fingertips."

 

Dean raised an eyebrow.  "So, we'd be what?  Another addition to your harem, or the beginnings of one?"  He asked lasciviously, mainly joking.

 

Mohini shrugged.

 

"You would be whatever you want to be."  She answered truthfully.  "I have many people at my temple and I love them all.  They are all free to leave if they wish and so would you."

 

"That really is a hell of an offer, but my brother and I are needed here.  We do a lot of work, and if we left, people would get hurt or worse."  He told her with a tinge of regret in his voice.  "Maybe we could visit from time to time."

 

Mohini touched his shoulder.  "You rather sacrifice yourselves for a thankless job, than live in comfort for the rest of your days?"  She asked, just to be certain.

 

"Of course not, but it's all I, we, know...  I'm not sure if we could ever adapt to that sort of life.  What about you, Sammy?  What do you think?"  He asked.

 

Sam sighed.

 

"I don't think I'm quite ready to become a pet."  He said, and Mohini smiled.

 

"Oh, so you'll stay a stray."  She teased, coming over and ruffling his hair.  "Fine.  Come see me if you've got the time."  She told them, leaving them with the smell of jasmine.

 

After Castiel zapped everyone back to where they belonged, he removed all of their memories of the past while, leaving Chuck and Lily's chat intact, as well as the information that the couple could now physically touch.

 

Everyone lived happily ever after.

 

+          +          +         +          +

 

One day, Chuck was leaning on the counter, when a thought came to her.  "Where's Olive?"  She asked.

 

At the exact same moment, back in the bunker, Sam dropped his glass of water, which shattered on the tiled floor.  "Shit, we forgot Adam."

 

 


End file.
